Terran Empire: Unity
by HappyTarget
Summary: Chapter's 42 - 45 are up. Sorry for the long delay folks.
1. Terran Empire Timeline

Authors note: Check out my lame web site at http://happytarget.50megs.com to see pics of some of the lesser known ships in the TE universe and TE Starfleet uniforms.  
  
- Timeline for Terran Empire Fan-Fic -  
  
- 2053 - Earth is devastated by World War III  
  
- 2063 - Warp drive is invented by Zefram Cochrane. First contact with the Vulcans. Contact goes badly and the Vulcan's decide to ignore the primitive savage peoples of Earth.  
  
- 2064 - Earth begins a crash starship building program using any weapons and shield tech it can beg, borrow, steal, or design. Many early First Contact missions are met with aggression. Earth's governing body, the Terran Council, decides that in order to protect Earth, Earth must become more aggressive.  
  
- 2126 - Mirak/Lyran blood feud begins.  
  
- 2156 - Disastrous first contact mission with the xenophobic Romulans. The Romulan/Terran war begins.  
  
- 2160 - Romulan Wars ended at the battle of Romulus. Terran forces are victorious. Terran Council declares the formation of the Terran Empire. Starfleet is established with a charter "to defend the Empire until death."  
  
- 2161 - Originally ignoring the vessels of Earth, with the destruction of the Romulan Star Empire at Terran hands, the Vulcans see the writing on the wall and start a crash building program of their own. The Imperials bring the Daedalus class starship into production  
  
- 2165 - Imperial/Vulcan wars begin  
  
- 2167 - After massive casualties on both sides and the war sitting at a grinding stalemate, an envoy from the Empire approaches the Vulcan leaders with a proposal. After much deliberation, the Vulcans are admitted in as co leaders in the Terran Empire. Terran Emperor is assassinated in a coup by the Terran Council.  
  
- 2201 - After many misfires due to bad blood between the two peoples, the Terrans and Vulcans finally put aside their differences and become true partners in the Empire.  
  
- 2205 - Imperial fleet continues to expand, annexing star systems into the Terran Empire. A Romulan scientist working for the Empire develops the first working cloaking device.  
  
- 2209 - First contact is made with the Klingon empire by a cloaked Imperial survey craft. This kicks off an extensive covert intelligence- gathering mission, as the Klingon Empire is vast and warlike. The Imperials bring the Constitution class starship into production  
  
- 2215 - Imperial/Klingon war begins. The Imperial 1st Battle Fleet enters Klingon space. It pushes deep into enemy held territory because of surprise and sheer number of ships used.  
  
- 2217 - 1st Battle Fleet is stopped short of Qo'noS. War is forced into one of attrition with little change in the lines.  
  
- 2220 - The newly built 2nd Battle Fleet joins the 1st in Klingon space and begins to roll back the Klingons.  
  
- 2221 - All of the Klingon Empire is now conquered and under Terran Empire rule. Many vessels and military personnel escape into hiding and engage in a guerrilla campaign that continues to present day.  
  
- 2230 - Spock is born on Vulcan, son of Sarek and Amanda.  
  
- 2233 - James T. Kirk is born in Iowa on Earth.  
  
- 2249 - Spock enters Starfleet Academy.  
  
- 2250 - Kirk enrolls in Starfleet Academy.  
  
- 2261 - David Kirk, son of James Kirk and Carol Marcus, is born. Gorn are encountered and intelligence gathering commences.  
  
- 2265 - Spock becomes the science officer of the Enterprise under the command of Christopher Pike.  
  
- 2266 - Kirk achieves the rank of Captain by killing his CO, Christopher Pike. He goes on to become one of the most decorated Imperial Captains in history, and his ship, the Constitution class ISS Enterprise NCC 1701 becomes the pride of the Imperial Navy. Imperial/Gorn war begins.  
  
- 2267 - Imperial navy encounters the Hydran Kingdoms. The methane breathers put up a furious fight, stopping the initial advance into their space cold. This so impresses the Terran Council that they offer the Hydrans full political autonymity within the Empire in exchange for the use of the Hydran military whenever the Empire needed. With the massed ships from the 3rd, 4th, and 5th Fleets in orbit over their homeworld, the Hydran Monarchy could scarce disagree. Besides, it was a far better deal than many other, greater powers had been granted. The Gorn are subjugated by the combined ships of the 1st and 2nd fleets after heavy fighting and losses.  
  
- 2269 - The Enterprise's latest 5 year mission of long range reconnaissance and conquest ends. The ship puts back to Earth spacedock for a major refit. It is at this time that Spock begins his quest to limit the excesses of the Empire. He is to much in the public eye from being James Kirk's first officer and is placed in prison for his newfound beliefs in order to keep them quiet. The Imperials bring the Marinda class starship into production. Yamato class Battleship is brought into production  
  
- 2270 - Spock escapes and spreads his teachings across the Empire, gaining many converts. In order to suppress dissent, the Terran Council rules Spock a traitor to the Empire and sentences him to death for sedition. Spock disappears. It is not known weather he was killed or merely went into hiding, but the Terran Council declares that he was killed. Spock's writing is declared seditious and is banned from Terran Empire space. Possession is punishable by death. The Council gives Section 31 special prerogative in its search for all those tainted by Spock's influence. They begin a crackdown that continues to present day.  
  
- 2271 - Refit Enterprise leaves on a new 5 year mission under now Rear Admiral Kirk.  
  
- 2276 - Imperial scouts encounter the Lyran and Mirak. Invasion plans begin to form from covert intelligence. Anti missile defense system is designed. All frontline ships receive it in upgrade.  
  
- 2280 - Imperial/Lyran war begins, Imperial/Mirak war begins. Both species are conquered and brought under Terran Empire domination.  
  
- 2282 - P'tel is born on Vulcan.  
  
- 2285 - Imperial researchers David and Carroll Kirk on the Regula 1 weapons design center create the first Genesis device. It is quickly modified to fit into a standard torpedo casing and is fired into the nearby Mutara Nebula, turning it into a colonizable planet. Section 31 is placed in control of this devastating new weapon. It is from then on mounted exclusively on Section vessels. The Imperials bring the Excelsior class starship into production. Lack of missile armed enemies causes the removal of the Anti Missile System. Space saved is used by another phaser mount.  
  
- 2288 - Thomas Chriton is born in Utopia Planetia, Mars.  
  
- 2290 - Imperial scouts encounter powerful warships along the outer border of Imperial space. The ships are destroyed at long range by a powerful weapon. Then the ships disappear. A larger force is dispatched to investigate the patrol ships disappearance. Out of three Excelsior class vessels dispatched, only one made it back to report. It was heavily damaged but its sensors records were intact. The mysterious massive silver ships were shrouded in yellow, blue and red lights and they looked vaguely like a Klingon bat'leth. They also disappeared into a subspace tear instead of going to the usual warp drive. No further contact with these ships was recorded for a year. (Subspace tear was eventually found to lead to the subspace tunnel network, which explained how the ISC could attack so far from their home systems)  
  
- 2291 - Imperial/Interstellar Concordium war begins. The ISC have faster FTL drive and superior ship and weapon designs. The Terran Empire has cloaking and numbers on their side. It is also the first time that the Terran Empire was invaded by an outside force. The ISC ran ragged over nearly 1/2 of Imperial space. As they went, they spoke of peace and all beings living in harmony under the ISC. Quite a few planets that they conquered thought that peace and harmony was far preferable to living under TE rule. These were either cleansed or the population left when the ISC pulled out of the Alpha and Beta Quadrants.  
  
- 2293 - El-Aurians are forced from their home by Borg invasion. Some make it to Imperial space.  
  
- 2294 - El-Aurians are declared a class A threat to the Terran Empire. They are ordered killed on sight.  
  
- 2298 - The ISC are eventually driven off by the use of Genesis torpedoes on their systems and fleets. The remaining ISC ships disappear into their subspace tears and are not heard from again. The Empire begins reconstruction efforts. The process is speeded by the extensive use of Romulan and Klingon slave labor. The Imperials bring the Constellation class starship into production.  
  
- 2305 - Thomas Chriton takes command of the ISS Reaper by assassinating his CO.  
  
- 2320 - Terran engineers and head Starfleet personnel's attitudes change. As a result, all work on new fighters and carriers is halted.  
  
- 2327 - The Cardassian Union is encountered. Invasion plans begin. The Imperials bring the Ambassador and New Orleans class starships into production. P'tel goes to Starfleet Academy.  
  
- 2333 - Imperial/Cardassian war begins. 2nd Conquest Fleet invades Cardassian space under the command of Admiral Thomas Chriton. The ships arrayed against the Imperials are of low quality and are crushed fairly easily. Cardassian home world and core worlds are cleansed  
  
- 2334 - Cardassian union is conquered, bringing its territories under Imperial control. P'tel leaves Starfleet.  
  
- 2340 - Worf is born into slavery on the Klingon homeworld.  
  
- 2346 - Akira class is put into production.  
  
- 2351 - Galaxy and Nebula classes are put into production. Heavy Photon launcher is developed. With the massive Galaxy and bigger plans on the drawing board, Starfleet petitions the Council for deploying a new class of Station, one big enough to accommodate the monster ships.  
  
- 2352 - Peter "Humpty" O'tole is born on Orion.  
  
- 2358 - First Bengal class Starbases are deployed at Terra, Vulcan, Alpha Centauri and Hydra Prime. Follow on bases at strategic locations throughout the empire begin construction  
  
- 2360 - Ulysses Vanguard is born on the cargo vessel Oberon. Worf is recruited by the Klingon Resistance.  
  
- 2365 - Selon Vanguard is executed by a Section 31 purity squad.  
  
- 2366 - Quantum Torpedo is developed. Retrofit on all capital ships and starbases begins  
  
- 2368 - Ambassador class ISS Voyager discovers the subspace tunnel network. Shortly there after, the Dominion is encountered by long range Imperial scouts. Invasion plans begin to take shape. Defiant class is put into production. Pulse Phaser Cannons are developed. Ablative armor is developed.  
  
- 2369 - P'tel rejoins Starfleet  
  
- 2370 - Imperial/Dominion war begins. Founder's planet and many other key planets in the Dominion are cleansed in a surprise attack. With the loss of their Founder "Gods", the Jem'Hadar become an erratic opponent. Some sink into a deep depression and many kill themselves for allowing it to happen. But over 2/3rds of the Dominion's forces attack in a rage of retribution. Phaser Lance is developed. Retrofit on all Galaxy classes begins  
  
- 2372 - With little or no military coordination and many of the Vorta coming over to the Terran Empire, the remaining Dominion forces still loyal to the surviving Founders flee into the subspace tunnels and disappear. First contact is made with the Borg. Discreet surveillance of Borg activities commences. Production of the Intrepid and Sovereign class ships begins  
  
- 2373 - Extensive upgrades in Imperial vessel designs are put in place. Designs of the Wraith, Steamrunner, Norway and Saber class ships are finalized and rushed into production. Peter O'tole gains leadership of the Orion Cartel. Cartels approach the subject non-humans of the Terran Empire with a proposition.  
  
- 2375 - Imperial/Borg war begins. 100,000 starships are lost, but the attack is a success. Surprise attack on the Borg Unimatrix using Genesis torpedoes causes the Borg to become erratic. What follows is informally known as the Great Turkey Shoot of '75. 24th Fleet, under Fleet Admiral Chriton, was the spearhead of the Imperial assault. The Phalanx Photon is developed. Cartels begin to produce ships and munitions for what is commonly known among its members as the Grand Alliance.  
  
- 2376 - Ulysses Vanguard goes to Starfleet Academy.  
  
- 2377 - The sheer scale of Borg space made rapid victory over the confused drones impossible. Then, without warning, the Borg began to reactivate. Their tactics changed. Instead of charging in among a superior enemy, the Borg began to lay traps. Instead of fighting to the last cube, they fought holding actions while inflicting casualties on Imperial ships. They also began to be able to use their holding beams through the upgraded Imperial shields. As a result, the Borg begin to push Imperial fleets out of their space. Imperial scientists built the first regenerative shield. Pulse Phaser Ball Turrets are developed. Ensign Ulysses Vanguard is assimilated by the Borg.  
  
- 2379 - Attack on second Borg Unimatrix succeeds. Borg numbers dwindled to low to allow them to recover against the weight of Imperial ships closing in on them from all sides. Prometheus, Aegean and Nova class' are authorized for production. Ablative armor generators are developed (Essentially regenerating armor. While not as effective as either plain ablative armor (Because it is thicker and denser) or shields (because they regenerate faster), it is an invaluable second line of defense after shields have been breached. Only used on capital vessels at this time.) To help increase the amount of firepower brought against Borg targets, the fighter/carrier combo again makes an appearance in the Imperial order of battle after a long hiatus. Ulysses Vanguard is released from the collective.  
  
- 2381 - Final Borg vessel in the Delta Quadrant is destroyed. Borg are declared wiped out by the Terran Council. Terran Empire begins to rebuild after the devastation wrought by the Imperial/Borg war. A flood of Borg tech fills Section 31 and other military research stations. Much of it is used to jump start the Empire's rebuilding plans. Bastion class monitors designed and put into production.  
  
- 2382 - Quantum Slipstream Drive is acquired from a conquered Delta Quad species. Refit begins on all surviving front line vessels. First workable phase cloaking device is developed. It is added to the refit of Bastion class ships of the Terra Defense Fleet and those in the Vulcan Defense Fleet. It is also installed in all Section 31 Black Fleet vessels, including the Black Fleet's uprated flagship, the Bastion class BFV Damocles. Grand Alliance ship construction continues unabated and undetected.  
  
- 2387 - A ill thought out attack against what the Borg called Species 8472 results in the destruction of 24th Fleet including Admiral Chriton and many vessels and personnel in 2nd Fleet before the sole portal to Species 8472's domain was sealed and their attack fleet destroyed. Captain Ulysses Vanguard was largely responsible for saving 2nd Fleet during 8472's attack, and was field promoted to Flag Captain of 2nd Fleet's Flagship, the Bastion Class ISS Athena.  
  
Thanks to secret assistance provided by the Orion Pirate Cartel, the subject races of the Alpha and Beta quadrants are able to break out of their bondage and reestablish their independence. They began by launching a sneak attack against Terra herself, aided by corrupted members of the Terran Council. The attack resulted in the complete destruction of San Francisco and a good portion of the surrounding territory and the deaths of over 2 billion and most of the Terran Council. High-ranking officers in Starfleet were implicated in the attacks and executed for treason. In the ensuing chaos and political upheaval, Councilman Jack Chambers worked the civilian's terror to his advantage, having them name him Emperor of the Terran Empire.  
  
The Imperial/Grand Alliance war has stalled to a stalemate on all fronts. Neither side currently has enough of an edge to ensure victory, and a fragile cease-fire reigns along the rapidly fortified borders between the Empires of the Grand Alliance and the Terran Empire. While the Terran Empire remains considerably larger than any one of the Grand Alliance's members, together the possess near parity, and as long as they stay united, nothing can be done to change the current status quo.  
  
It is in these troubled times that the Terran Empire now finds itself, but an even greater peril is unifying in the outer reaches of the Gamma Quadrant.  
  
United, they posses the power to consume everything in their path, Terran Empire and Grand Alliance alike! 


	2. Terran Empire Tech

- Revised and Expanded Terran Empire Technology -  
  
PPC vs. Phaser Array - In the Terran Empire universe, the Phaser Array causes more continuous damage to shields and regenerating armor than a PPC volley of similar time span would (PPC bolts allow shields and armor a chance to regenerate slightly between bolts). This is oftentimes offset because current Mk.'s of PPC recharge their capacitors fully in between every bolt, allowing them to fire continuously as long as they are powered. The reason they are not standard weapons on all ships is due to the fact that Phaser Arrays have 2x the range of current PPC's and are more easily varied for a multitude of tasks (wide beam planetary bombardment, boring (melting shafts into planetary bodies) capabilities, greater NDF effect on targets, etc.) than a PPC is capable of.  
  
Guided Weapons vs. Energy Weapons - Terran Empire universe guided weapons generally only have a fraction of the destructive potential of standard energy weapons. Their main advantages are seeking ability and engagement range. They can home in on evading enemy targets, scoring significantly greater hits than PPC's and Phaser Arrays on small, fleet targets. Their max range is most often at least 5x the range of a Phaser Array. Unless they are used in numbers against an enemy, they are primarily used for generating weak points, or small kinks, in enemy shields for follow up phaser strikes to target.  
  
- Shipboard Weapons -  
  
- Phaser Lance - - Essentially just a massively oversized phaser. Similar to the one under the future Enterprise-D's saucer section in TNG "All Good Things". Capable of punching through to the core of a planet in a single sustained shot, causing massive damage. Requires half a minute recharge time after full power continuous firing. Due to the large size of this weapon, only larger capital ships can mount it (Galaxy Class and upwards). Anything smaller than an Akira is completely destroyed by one shot, and most things the size of an Akira up to a Sovereign being hit by this weapon will suffer moderate to heavy damage and total loss of facing shields. Normal yield per beam is ~1000 GT.  
  
- Type XV Phaser Array - - Designed by Terran Empire engineers to combat the Borg. Autoremodulates beam frequency twice as fast as the highest known rate of Borg adaptation. Does about the same level of damage to Borg ships as a standard Trek Sovereign phaser array does to regular (non Borg) opponents. Does about 50% greater damage than Sovereign phaser array to non Borg targets. Same capacitor recharge time as seen in TNG "BOBW" under normal power generation conditions. The longer the generating Phaser strip, the longer the sustained fire before allowing capacitor recharge. GCS main phaser arrays can fire continuously for 10 seconds before capacitor is drained. Normal yield per five second, single beam burst is ~22 GT. Bastion phaser arrays are 100 GT per second.  
  
- Pulse Phaser Cannon (Ball Turret Mount) - - Basically a standard Pulse Phaser Cannon mounted in a turret to give it greater useable arcs of fire. Terran Empire PPCs are all 35% greater in damage caused to targets. Arc of BT mount varies depending on where it is placed, but is generally at least 90 degrees and usually less than 120 degrees. Fire rate in TE vessels is the same as seen in DS9s Defiant, but sustainable continuously under normal power generation conditions. Range is only ½ that of Type XV Phaser Array. Normal yield per bolt is ~3 GT.  
  
- Heavy Photon Torpedo - - Picture a torpedo casing the size of a shuttle filled with antimatter. Can be used as a standard Matter/Antimatter explosive, but is generally preferred to be used as an Antimatter delivery device, (warhead filled with AM only used against unshielded targets, using the targets own matter to combine with the AM in the warhead to create the explosion.) due to its low speed, low maneuverability and resulting high vulnerability to anti missile fire. Usually used as a coup de grace shot against starships, as a heavy weapon against starbases after their facing shield is dropped, or as a planetary attack weapon after planetary shields are down. Slow refire rate of once a minute and bulky launcher generally limit this weapon for use solely on Starbases and the biggest capital ships. Generally one hit by this torp on anything smaller than a Nebula class will result in instant catastrophic damage (M/AM usage). Nebula sized and above will generally loose facing shields and sustain moderate damage, but most vessels that are operational can usually either destroy this torp or avoid it, hence its use generally on immobilized, shieldless targets. AM usage yield is ~600 GT. M/AM usage yield is ~300 GT  
  
- Quantum Torpedo - - Developed as a weapon to fight the Borg the Quantum Torpedo is about the same size as the venerable photon it replaced in the TE fleet. Its destructive potential is 3x greater than the standard photon, and since it uses a zero point energy explosion as its warhead, there is no chance for the Borg to adapt to it ahead of time as its explosive frequency is unknown till the explosion occurs. Mounted on all new TE ships as standard. Older vessels can be modified to carry this munition during minor refits and overhauls. Torpedo can be set for proximity detonation at expense of warhead damage to target. Standard yield is ~950 MT. Proximity yield varies due to distance of explosion from target, but generally ~400 MT to 800 MT.  
  
- Phalanx Quantum Torpedo - - A 1/8 sized version of the standard Quantum torpedo. Torp size is 1/8 scale and so is warhead yield. Use primarily as an anti fighter weapon, but used in large numbers it can still hurt capital ships. Torp tube load time is less than one second. Usually mounted in tandem with a dual PPC-BT mount in a PD cluster. Usually mounted in a turret to give maximum coverage. Standard yield is ~119 MT.  
  
- Mauler Device - - Developed originally in secret by the Romulans and shared with the rest of the Grand Alliance powers who wanted it, this weapon has slightly shorter range and 3x the recharge time but 1.5x the firepower as a Phaser Lance. It is also a lot bulkier than the Phaser Lance, citing that smaller ships mount it almost exclusively, at the expense of other weapons systems and crew compartments(in essence the smaller vessels that mount it are basically designed around the Mauler Device), and larger vessels mount it in more limited numbers than a similarly sized TE vessel would have Phaser Lances. Standard yield per beam is ~1500 GT.  
  
- Drone Missile - - Developed by the Mirak Star League and refined in secret during the years of TE occupation, this weapon now is considerably faster than a starship at full impulse and each individual missile mounts armor and rudimentary shields to increase survivability against phaser arrays. Usually launched in swarms to swamp current generation PD. Usually have ECM drones seeded in with warhead salvos to further confuse targeted vessels sensors. Normal yield is ~500 MT.  
  
- Expanding Sphere Generator - - Developed by the Lyran Star Empire and refined in secret during the years of TE occupation, this weapon creates an highly energized spherical field around the generating vessel. This field stops all known missile and torpedo weaponry, and can be used to destroy shuttles and fighters if they collide with it. Can also be used to allow ramming tactics, as contact with the field will cause severe damage even to starships. Can be set for varying radiuses from the generating vessel, but the farther out it is generated, the less powerful it is. Damage with small (1) radius is ~750 GT. Damage with a medium (2) radius is ~500 GT. Damage with a large (3) radius is ~250 GT. Recharge time one minute per ESG apparatus.  
  
- ESG Lance - - Expansion of ESG tech. It allows a micro ESG bubble to be sent long distances to a far away target. Micro ESG bubble has the same damage potential as a standard ESG set for the closest, most powerful setting. Range is about the same as a Mauler Device.  
  
- Plasma Torpedo - - Sends a ball of energized plasma towards the enemy. Speed is similar to a Quantum Torpedo but the damage potential is slightly higher against non Borg targets. Against Borg targets, the torp gains no advantages against adaptation as the Borg can usually detect the frequency of the torp and adapt to it. Reload time is slightly longer than a standard Quantum tube. Can be set for shotgun mode, splitting the single large energy torp into ten smaller energy torps for use against fighters and shuttles. Old versions lost energy throughout their flight till the totally dissipated, and were only slightly faster than enemy ships. Latest versions have a special energy field encasing the plasma allowing full power shot to be maintained throughout engagement range. Once at the end of engagement range, the encasing field fails catastrophically, collapsing the torp. Range is about 3/4 that of a Phaser array. Reload time per torp is about 40 seconds but up to 10 torps can be held in most launchers to be fired as needed. Energy intensive weapon, requiring a hefty power core to operate effectively. On smaller ships, this usually means that things like shield reinforcement and ECM must be either limited or totally abstained from during reloading. Can be overloaded at the expense reducing of max range to ~1/2 that of a Phaser array. Normal yield is ~1 GT. Overloaded yield is ~2 GT.  
  
- Disruptors - - Developed originally by the Romulans and Klingons. Bolts of energy that usually have close to a 1 second burst from a PPC in firepower. Heavy versions can be overloaded to carry near double Quantum torp levels in damage, but they sacrifice refire rate to do so. Normal Disruptors refire at 4-second intervals, with the Heavy version refireing at 7 seconds normally and 10 seconds overloaded. There is also a rapid- fire version that has about the same ROF as a PPC, but each individual bolt does ~10% more damage than a PPC bolt. Normal yield per bolt is ~20 GT. Heavy yield per bolt is ~30 GT. Rapid-fire yield per bolt is ~10 GT.  
  
- Plasmatic Pulsar Device - - Developed by the Interstellar Concordium. Weapon range and damage are virtually the same as a Phaser Lance. Weapon sends a carrier beam to target first, doing no damage. Then waves of plasma follow the carrier beam down to the target. Newer versions feature more waves per use than older ones, and they now have the ability to envelope enemy vessels, enabling the PPD to not only do full damage to facing shields, but also do 1/3 damage to adjacent shields (ex. Facing shield is fore, PPD does full damage to fore, but also does 1/3 damage to port, starboard, ventral and dorsal shields). Normal yield is ~250 GT per plasma wave, with most current PPD's throwing out 5 waves per activation for a total yield of ~1000 GT per attack on facing shield and ~250 GT "splash" damage on surrounding shields.  
  
- Breen Energy Dampening Weapon - - Only Recently Developed, the weapon leaches all energy generated by an enemy starship, causing all systems to become inoperative for close to an hour. This is usually plenty of time to deal with the enemy vessel once its weapons, engines and shields have failed. Recharge time is 5 minutes per weapon mount. Other than the leach effect, this weapon does no only minimal damage to the target. Aside from power drain effect, normal yield is ~0.5 KT.  
  
- Fusion Beams - - Developed by the TE's client state, the Hydran Kingdoms. A stream of excited tritium and deuterium nuclei are projected to the target. The nuclei fuse and become helium nuclei, releasing tremendous amounts of energy at the moment of contact. Almost suicidaly short ranged, the Fusion Beam requires close to a minute cooling time between shots. Damage is ~750 GT at normal, ~1000 GT at overloaded and ~1500 GT when suicide overloaded (weapon mount melts down after firing as cooling system cannot handle the massive temperatures that much firepower causes). Cannot be used as a planetary assault weapon due to short range unless ship drops down into the planet's atmosphere first.  
  
- Hellbore Cannons - - Developed by the TE's client state, the Hydran Kingdoms. High velocity fusion bomb that utilizes a special containment field. This field causes the fusion explosion to wrap around a target, thus enabling the weapon to target the most damaged shields on an enemy even if they are not the arc facing the initial point of impact. Due to its speed, the Hellbore is considered a direct fire weapon similar to a phaser. Damage is ~712 MT with reload times of 10 seconds per cannon.  
  
- Psychonic Attack - - Using extreme mind conditioning and both bio and cyber augmentation, Section 31 is capable of creating a powerful telepathic being that can be used to generate a Psychonic attack. This attack, when directed at a enemy vessel within visual range, causes ship wide temporary insanity and paranoia, resulting in the enemy crew attacking each other and damaging ships systems. As a result of Section 31's conditioning and implanted mental imperatives, the beings that are made into telepathic weapons generally are lacking in personal hygiene, mental capacity and social abilities.  
  
- Genesis Torpedo - - Perfected by Dr. David Kirk, son of Dr. Carroll Marcus and Fleet Admiral James Kirk, on the Regula One weapons development facility, the Genesis Torpedo reformats the surface of a world to whatever its matrix was programmed with. Everything from single celled organisms to plants to animals of all kinds can be created out of the reconstituted matter of the target. Prime means of eliminating Borg infested worlds and, in conjunction with planet placement (towing a planet or planetoid to a desired spot using Battlecruiser sized vessels), generating new M-class planets for colonization. Due to depletion of stockpile against Borg and destruction of Regula One by Grand Alliance forces, there are currently only a handful of Genesis Torpedoes available and it will be years (as of 2387) before any new ones are produced.  
  
- Self Replicating Mine - - Can be outfitted with a gravitonic warhead, slowing targeted ships STL speed. TE version is usually outfitted with a shuttle sized ZPE warhead of 500 GT yield. Can be sent to subspace to remain hidden till needed/activated by a nearby enemy vessel. Mine can make a duplicate of itself up to 100 times before loss of replication reagents causes replication system to go offline. (eg. Mine self- replicates just before destruction, then the next mine does the same, then the next mine does the same, etc. x 100)  
  
- Shipboard Defenses[/b][/I]  
  
In the Terran Empire universe (in general terms), the larger a vessel is, the more power it can generate. This in turn affects things like power available to shield emitters and weapons systems. Thus, the larger a vessel is, the stronger its shields are and the more spare power it will have for other uses after powering its shields.  
  
- Cloaking Device - - Standard cloaking device used to hide ships from normal sensor systems and the naked eye. Reduces sensor range while in use. Vulnerable to Tachyon Detection systems, either fixed beam networks or tactical ranged sensors on starships. Active shields and weapons capacitors leak energy through the cloak, negating its effectiveness nearly completely. Guided weapons can be fired while cloaked, but modern starship sensors can easily trace the weapons impulse trail back to the defenseless but cloaked vessel, usually resulting in easy kills of the cloaked attacker.  
  
- Multiphaseic (Phase) Cloaking Device - - Advanced cloaking device seeing limited use in TE's Starfleet and Section 31 vessels. Allows phase cloaked vessel to pass through most normal materials without incident, makes the vessel totally invulnerable to both conventional weaponry and all known sensor systems. Severely limits sensor range while in use. Takes a long time (in a tactical sense, and the larger the phased ship, the longer the process of phasing and unphasing takes) to unphase a vessel, meaning it is vulnerable to fire for a long period of time in a normal engagement before it can bring up defenses and power weapons. Phased objects need to be unphased to interact with normal matter again (eg. phased shuttles docked in a phased ships shuttle bay cannot simply fly out the shuttle bay doors and reappear in normal space unphased, the Multiphaseic Cloaking Device must be activated at reverse polarity to unphase cloak an object that has been phase cloaked.)  
  
- Tachyon Anti Cloak Sensor Arrays - - Sensors, largely developed by reverse engineering Dominion and Borg anti cloak sensor arrays, that can detect cloaked vessels. Useable range is limited to the tactical envelope and only gives a general direction and distance to contact, allowing a fleet or defensive emplacements to saturate an area with fire to kill cloaked enemy vessels (due to the fact that active shields and armor generators would give away the ships position even in spite of the cloaks effects). Systems are generally bulky and are usually only mounted on Akira sized hulls and above. Power intensive even on most TE vessels, meaning that shields are usually unable to recharge while the sensor array is in use.  
  
- Spaceborn Warning And Control (SWAC) Pod - - Most often employed on Nebula Class Battlecruisers (due to their mission changeable pod) but can be mounted on other starships during a shipyard layover or refit. Long range anti cloak and normal sensors. Expanded communications and datalink capabilities, allowing for target information to be transmitted to the rest of the Fleet faster and more reliably than would otherwise be the case.  
  
- Ablative Armor - - Mounted standard on all TE starships. This is a layer added to the exterior hull of a vessel that sacrifices itself to protect what is underneath. After battle, this is usually in need of at least minor repairs. Able to stop ~50 GT per cm.  
  
- Regenerative Shields - - Standard shields of nearly all TE starships. These shields regenerate themselves considerably faster than a normal shield would, allowing damaged shield arcs to be boosted back up to full power rapidly without having to divert extra power to reinforce them. Able to stop ~100 GT per full charge (Akira class energy generation)  
  
- Ablative Armor Generators - - Mounted on most new TE starships and added via starbase and repair yards to older vessels during refits. These generators combine transporter, replicator and nanite technology to create regenerating ablative armor. While the regeneration ability is not very fast, the armor itself is the next generation, providing slightly better protection once deployed than standard ablative armor. Able to stop ~55 GT per cm.  
  
- Reinforced Structural Integrity Field - - Mounted on some TE capital ships, this modification allows equipped ships to survive and continue to fight after suffering damage that would have destroyed other starships of the same class not equipped with the RSIF  
  
- Internal Armored Bulkheads - - added armor used around nerve centers on a starship, like Slipstream Drive Cores, Flag and Main Bridge and Heavy Weapons Emplacements.  
  
- ECM Drones - - Computer controlled drones that can nearly perfectly mimic the sensor profile and visual look of any known starship, station or similarly sized spatial body using top of the line Electronic Countermeasures and holo technology. Can generate single contact for larger vessels per drone, and multiple contacts for smaller vessels. Used in conjunction with shipboard ECM/ECCM suites to provide using fleet/starship with greater protection. Can even simulate weapons fire, though weapons do no damage when they hit.  
  
- Emergency Tactical Hologram - - Computer controlled security holograms. Invulnerable to normal weapons. Used almost solely in boarding actions against superior number and/or capability opponents.  
  
- Remote Shield Reinforcement Generators - - Recent TE development. Uses special generators mounted on one starship to provide at least double shield strength to other nearby allied ships in the fleet. Generating vessel itself doesn't receive benefit from this, even if used in tandem with another generating vessel. This is a side effect due to the Generators operation. With the Generators offline, the vessel will become eligible for reinforcement just like any other vessel, but it will not provide reinforcement to other vessels itself. If two or more generating ships are used in close proximity, the shield boost itself isn't increased, just its area of effect. Adds an extra ~300 GT per shield arc of protection (Akira class target energy generation).  
  
- General Shipboard Tech -  
  
Ship classes in the Terran Empire universe are as follows from smallest to largest.  
  
Shuttle (eg. Type 9) Fighter/Runabout/Scout (Cobra Fighter) Frigate (Saber) Destroyer (Defiant) Cruiser (Soulwolf) Battlecruiser (Akira) Battleship (Galaxy) Super Dreadnought (Wraith) Monitor (Bastion)  
  
On general terms, any single vessel from a smaller class would have great difficulty in taking out any single vessel from the next larger class. Their hulls are usually to small to mount enough weapons and powerful enough shields to allow it to deal out sufficient damage to the larger enemy before the larger, more powerful vessel destroys the smaller one.  
  
This means that most smaller vessels are used in swarm tactics, putting out enough firepower on multiple platforms that the larger enemy will be destroyed before it picks off no more than a handful of the lighter units. The wider the gap between classes, the greater the numbers required for successful completion of a swarm attack. Smaller classes are, on the whole, more maneuverable than vessels in the bigger size classes, often times enabling them to oftentimes dodge fire when done in conjunction with active ECM to further throw off enemy aim. The smaller the class, the better able they are to dodge enemy fire.  
  
Starbases are most often require equivalent to 3x their class size warship analogue in firepower to be taken out due to free space acquired by removal of most if not all STL and FTL drive ability from their size class norm.  
  
Most vessels of Akira sized and above carry multiple power cores (Warp or Slipstream) for added power and redundancy.  
  
Max Impulse is 75 PSL. Smaller vessels take less time to get there and are usually able to go slightly above 75 PSL. As a general rule, the smaller a vessel is, the faster STL speed it is capable of in emergency situations. Max STL speed attainable by any known starship is 80 PSL due to internal compensator limits. Any higher speed and the slightest bump could cause compensator failure with messy results for the ships crew. Compensator reliability is a shallow curve towards failure till you get near 80 PSL. Then reliability drops off sharply. Compensator failure is exceedingly rare under 80 PSL. It is exceedingly common above 80 PSL.  
  
- Flag Bridge Holo Display System - - Combination of astrometrics and holodeck technology. Essentially turns the Flag Bridge of a starship into a scaled down holodeck. Used to provide fleet commanders with the best, most detailed information on enemy and allied fleet dispositions. Used in conjunction with a set of sensor imbedded gloves, the CO can call up info and give orders rapidly and easily. Recently developed and is being incorporated into the refit schedule of all command vessels from Squadron level clear up to Fleet level.  
  
- Hyper Com - - Once the TE began to get really big, R&D began to work on a longer ranged version of the standard subspace com. The end result is the Hyper Com, allowing near instantaneous communication across up to ¾ of the Galaxy.  
  
- Quantum Slipstream Drive - - New high speed FTL drive given as a gift to the TE by a species in the Delta Quadrant in gratitude for eliminating the Borg threat. Equipped vessels are capable of crossing the known Galaxy in a matter of weeks instead of many years at warp speeds and many months using Subspace Corridors. All major fleets in Starfleet currently have this drive or are in the process of getting one during their next refit. Sector patrol units have been deemed unnecessary to receive this warp drive replacement.  
  
- Subspace Corridors - - Similar to Borg transwarp corridors but appear to be a natural occurrence throughout the explored Galaxy. Set up as a chaotic web like network whose pathways must be plotted in order for orderly traffic to use them. Slightly lower in speed than Borg Transwarp, but naturally occurring so there is no need for massive transwarp gates to be built and maintained. Usual means of most Starfleet (until QSS drives become the norm) and Civilian long distance travel.  
  
- Warp Field Inhibitors - - All vessels Cruiser sized and above have these devices. When active, they prevent Warp Field Bubble formation over a fairly large area (close to solar system in size). While Subspace Corridors can still be used for FTL travel while this device is active, one could only enter and exit corridors along their path, and all known paths terminate outside of the final planet in a system.  
  
- Borg STL Drive - - Currently fresh out of R&D and only in use on the TE Bastion Class Monitor ISS Athena. Basically the same drive used on a Borg Cube, giving the Spacedock sized Athena considerably more maneuverability and STL drive redundancy thanks to its dispersed, part of the hull matrix, design than the other, Impulse drive powered Monitors. Currently in refit plans for all TE Monitors and some Wraith class Battleships  
  
- Ground Weaponry -  
  
Ground troops are not used as extensively in the Terran Empire as they are in the 21st century. This is mainly due to the fact that one usually has to drop at least part of a planetary shield to land ground troops. Only starships possess enough firepower to bring them down (eventually). But if a starship controls the high orbitals unopposed, it can rain down much greater firepower than any ground-based force can on another. A singe Terran Empire Cruiser can melt the entire upper crust of a planet in less than half an hour of bombardment. But seeing as how most parties want to keep planetary bodies as intact as possible, especially M-class worlds (before Genesis torpedoes became prevalent as both a means to eliminate hostile natives and set up idyllic settings for Terran colonization), this is usually an option of last resort.  
  
Fortunately for ground units, modern cammo skins and ECM allow them to operate with relative freedom on a planetary body that an enemy whom controls the high orbitals wants taken intact. There is still a place for ground warfare in the Terran Empire universe, it just usually takes a back seat to planetary fleet engagements (whichever fleet wins in orbit usually decides who gets the planet. If no nearby fleets are available, and the enemy will eventually break through the shield before help arrives, locals are to destroy shield stations and surrender to the enemy rather than have the planet turned into a lifeless husk. Boarding actions are another matter. They require the best protection and weaponry an individual can have. As a result, the Terran Empire developed an array of weapons and the Power Armor Suit (basically a strap on tank) to aid in the successful boarding of enemy vessels.  
  
It is often hard to accomplish unwelcome planet fall as even remote colonies have at the minimum 100,000 GT capacity theater shields, more often full light planetary shield networks in place.  
  
- Grav Gun - - Standard weapon of Terran Empire Marine and Army Armored Infantry. Designed incorporating gravity generation tech and rail gun tech, it fires smart projectiles at Mach 15 thanks to its gravity puller rings. Ammo available is Armor Piercing, High Explosive and Flechette. AP is basically a pinky sized solid duranium penetrator with micro impulse engine boosters to punch through most known armors. Mostly used against tanks and APCs and against assault shuttles. HE version contains a few grains of suspended antimatter and matter. When it either contacts or is in close proximity to the target, the magnetic fields holding the two apart collapse and release the violent energies of a micro M/AM explosion. Mostly used against power armor and unpowered heavy combat armor. Flechette rounds send out a cloud of razor sharp metal slivers at Mach 15, creating the modern equivalent of a pre WW3 shotgun. Varying choke setting can be chosen, from close to 3 meters spread at 20 feet to 3 cm spread at 20 feet. Mostly used against unarmored or lightly armored targets and for crowd control.  
  
- Power Combat Armor - - Standard armor in use by all major TE infantry units. Consists of Duranium main structure with Ablative Armor plate overlays. Its synthetic musculature allows the suit to give the infantry close to four times the strength of a normal human. This allows for nasty things like punching straight through bulkheads and sealed doors. In addition to the armor of the suit, it also comes equipped with an low grade forcefield, allowing it to stop a few rounds from a grav gun or a sustained 10 second shot from a maxed out phaser. The suit is completely self contained and with a full charge can run at combat levels for 24 hours without need of recharge. Inside, it provides all the amenities one would find in a long shift work space suit (waste removal, nutrient laced water, puréed meals, etc.) Sensors are modifiable, but generally include 360 degree low light, infrared, X-ray and zoom optical modes. Also included are all the functions of a standard tricorder but with enhanced range and short range anti cloak sensors. All sensor data is projected onto a HUD in the suits helmet, along with damage, ammo and power levels. The AG boots of the armor are capable of giving limited flight to a user (a la Spock's boots in ST:V) All suits come equipped with both personal cloaking devices and chameleon cammo skin whose camouflage pattern or stealth effect the user can alter at will. They also contain an extensive (for a personal unit) ECM/ECCM suite to defeat sensors both from ground and space based sites. Powered by Fusion reactor.  
  
- Pulse Phaser Heavy Carbine - - Heavy weapon of choice in the modern TE Marines and Army Infantry. Capable of extreme destruction of both ground and air targets, this 1/38th scale and power version of the starship weapon is extremely deadly in the hands of someone who knows how to operate it effectively. While current models are susceptible to overheating under continuous use, they are powerful enough to take out most Main Battle Tanks and Assault Shuttles and even pose a risk to light starships flying in atmosphere if used against them in numbers. What they do to Infantry, even ones in power armor, is truly gruesome.  
  
- Bladed Weaponry - - During the TE's war against the Borg, fighting against hordes of Drones soon devolved into melee ranged phaser rifle but and dagger vs. Drone exoskeleton. As a result, many security personnel and infantry units soon adopted a rather archaic weapon set as secondary weapons, namely blades. The bladed and club like weaponry were highly successful against Borg adaptation as a Drone's personal shielding was only effective at stopping energy weaponry. Soon a virtual cornucopia of custom made great swords and battleaxes found their way into shipboard and planetary armories. Although they now pose little use in the current battlefield, those who used them refused to give them up, and in a pitched close quarters battle, they have saved many a trooper's life. The weapons are made of an intensely strong and resilient alloy and sharpened to single molecule sharpness, allowing them to hack through most objects like a hot knife through butter. Some are even more advanced, having billions of tiny serrated edges on the blade edge and motors in their handles that cause the blade to vibrate at hypersonic velocities, creating a chainsaw like effect that actually helps pull the blade through a target. An unenhanced human can fell a large tree in a single stroke with one of these blades.  
  
- T-69S Sniper Rifle - - Standard long rifle currently in frontline TE service. Capable of firing a Grav Gun bullet as far as the scope's line of sight at Mach 25, or if situation allows transport the bullet to targets up to the same distance. The gun is fully silenced and bullet is coated in special layer to prevent visible trail from being left in its wake due to the extreme atmospheric speed it travels at. Usually able to take out a power armored infantry soldier in one shot.  
  
- Fury Power Armor - - Exact capabilities are classified ( ( ), but it is assured that both humanoid and canine versions are more capable than standard power armor in strength, armor and shield stopping power, armament and sensors.  
  
- Hyper Velocity Missile[/b][/I] - Infantry weapon designed for destruction of armor units while causing minimal damage to the surrounding countryside. Basically an impulse engine mated with an armor piercing nose cone. The missile is launched from an apparatus similar to ancient Bazookas. Once it clears 15 m from the launcher, the missile brings its internal impulse drive online and accelerates to 90 PSL within a quarter of a second. The kinetic impact delivered to armor units is usually sufficient to pierce shields and often armor, but multiple strikes may be required on current MBT's.  
  
- Assault Shuttle - - Varying designs of large, armed and armored shuttles used to ferry troops and vehicles to the front lines of battle and provide close air support when needed.  
  
- Drop Ship - - Varying designs of Frigate sized, heavily shielded and armored cargo ships used to bring large amounts of troops and vehicles down to a hostile planet.  
  
- Conquistador Armored Personnel Carrier - - Standard frontline Armored Personnel Carrier (APC) in Terran Empire Army and Marine arms. It can carry up to 20 fully equipped Powered Combat Armored Infantry into battle. The Conquistador is protected by both cloak and cammo skin as well as high powered ECM/ECCM units. Its shields and armor can protect it from at least a few rounds from a Main Battle Tank or a few seconds of fire from a Frigate's weapons. It has a single rapid-fire PPC turret and four Grav Guns in 180-degree turrets mounted front, back, left and right, for self defense. Powered by M/AM reactor. Both Anti-Gravity and track propulsion.  
  
- Conquistador Mobile Command Post - - Standard frontline Mobile Command Post (MCP) in Terran Empire Army and Marine arms. High-speed data nets and communication systems are standard, giving ground commanders a detailed holographic map of the evolving battlefield, including both allied and detected enemy units. The Conquistador is protected by both cloak and cammo skin as well as high powered ECM/ECCM units. Its shields and armor can protect it from at least a few rounds from a Main Battle Tank or a few seconds of fire from a Frigate operating in atmosphere. It has a rapid- fire PPC and quad Grav Guns mounted in main turret for self-defense. Powered by M/AM reactor. Both AG and track propulsion.  
  
- Viking Mobile AAA Battery - - Standard frontline AAA Battery in Terran Empire Army and Marine arms. The Viking is a modified Conquistador chassis with all space usually given up to internal troop transport filled with Phalanx Micro-Quantum torpedoes. 12 are launched in a volley, then the Viking usually relocates to prevent destruction due to the enemy following the initial track of its weaponry back to itself. The Phalanx launcher is mounted in a turret and while primary used against air targets, the Phalanx torpedoes can and often do attack nearby ground targets of opportunity. . The Viking is protected by both cloak and cammo skin as well as high powered ECM/ECCM units. Its shields and armor can protect it from at least a few rounds from a Main Battle Tank or a few seconds of fire from a Frigate operating in atmosphere. Powered by M/AM reactor. Both AG and track propulsion.  
  
- Harbinger Main Battle Tank - - Standard frontline Main Battle Tank (MBT) in Terran Empire Army and Marine arms. The Harbinger is protected by both cloak and cammo skin as well as high powered ECM/ECCM units. Its shields and armor can protect it from close to half a dozen rounds from a Main Battle Tank or about a dozen seconds of fire from a Frigate operating in atmosphere. Powered by Dual M/AM reactors. Both AG and track propulsion. Dual Heavy Grav Guns and PPCs in single main turret. One Grav Gun in 180- degree turret mounted on front, left, right, and aft. 


	3. Prologue

-Terran Empire: Unity-  
  
A work of Star Trek Alternate Universe Fan Fiction by Jeremy "HappyTarget" S.  
  
-Prologue - And Then There Was One.-  
  
-Sol System, Sector One, Terran Empire-  
  
The newly crowned Emperor of the Terran Empire paced in his new throne room, his booted feet echoing off of the emerald and white real stone marble. He wore a black cowled robe, similar to the old Council robes, but of thatch patterned silk edged in gold. On his head, he wore a simple crown, a red fire agate gem burning in its center like a third eye. It was a plain crown, for Jack Chambers wasn't one for gaudy shows of power or position. Yet just the same, the crown was one of a kind and a strong symbol of the new Terran Empire.  
  
Now what should I do with Second Fleet Jack thought? The people need something to believe in after the terrifying setbacks handed to us by the Grand Alliance. Perhaps I should make them into heroes? I would rather the were out of the way for good, but having them executed as part of the plot to bring down the Empire wouldn't go over well. The people might be naive, but they aren't stupid. That would be to bold, to obvious for them not to miss. Something subtler then. I have it. I'll move them out to the edge of explored space, out of sight and out of mind. The people will have their heroes, but they won't remain around long enough to get uppity. And with the new officers I will be adding to Starfleet's chain of command, they won't be able to cause mischief. Jack's internal thoughts shifted as he came to his decision.  
  
It's a lucky thing that that snake O'tole has some sense of honor, otherwise I really would have lost my daughter. It was a miracle that she survived the attack at all, yet now she was back on Terra by his side as crown princess. The prophecy that he had heard all those years ago, and all the actions he initiated to prevent it, would have been nothing. He wasn't self diluted enough to think his true motives were as pure as the driven snow. He had always craved power, but that was only part of the reason why he had ascended to the helm of the Terran Empire. His thoughts shifted back to the prophecy he had heard so long ago.  
  
'.A time of tribulation shall fall upon the Galaxy. Great powers shall teeter on the brink of destruction and alternately arise out of the ashes of history. The Terran Empire of old shall fall away amidst much pain and suffering and loss of life, with a new union rising in its place. Then a great leader shall come, binding the peoples of the Galaxy together as never before to face the enemy that comes for them all. If the great leader does not come to the forefront during this time of upheaval, then everything shall be lost and all shall be consumed.'  
  
Despite what the few others that had heard it might say, he himself did believe in it. A stronger hand than the divisive Terran Council would be needed if what the prophecy predicted actually came to pass. If that hand just happened to be his, Emperor Chambers the First thought, what was wrong with that?  
  
-Gamma/Delta Quadrant Borders, Near the Fringe of the Galaxy-  
  
It was amazing how such diverse entities as the Dominion and the Interstellar Concordium could work together so well so soon. That was what a common goal could do for two peoples, bridging the gap between them and binding their diverse traits into a united entity. It was what the ISC had sought to do for centuries, and what the Dominion had done for close to one and a half of one.  
  
The Dominion had united its peoples under the Founders for 165 years, slowly but steadily expanding their influence, building up their fleets and armies of genetically engineered soldiers to police its boundaries and bring other worlds into the Dominion. The Dominion had even eventually butted up against what had once been ISC space shortly before encountering the Terran Empire.  
  
Like the Dominion, the ISC had incorporated alien species into itself, bringing peace and harmony to the warring factions of the Galaxy. When they first encountered the Terran Empire, they had known that it would be their greatest challenge yet, for none of the other species had been as populous or as aggressive as the Terran Empire. So the Pacification Fleet had been dispatched to bring the Terran Empire's anger and expansionistic tendencies to heel. Only it didn't turn out that way. The ISC didn't take the time to accurately access the true strength of the TE before they began their Pacification campaign. Because of that small error, the ISC Fleet wasn't large enough to take out the TE and was crushed in detail before it could be adequately reinforced. If a proper strength had been sent initially, the TE would have been pacified and safely under ISC protection. Now, the remaining fleet units were not of sufficient numbers to guaranty a victory. Faced with the probable counterattack by the Terran Empire, the ISC decided to move far away from Terran Empire space and rebuild their fleets, till one day in the future they would be powerful enough the succeed where they had initially failed.  
  
The Terran Empire had beaten the ISC and the Dominion, and the two powers were eager to make up that loss. With access to the materials in ISC space and Dominion technology, the Fleet growth rate began to expand geometrically. Working towards their common goals, the two empires planned a merging, becoming a single entity harnessing their resources towards one goal alone, galactic domination. The ISC already had agents and assets in TE space, preparing the way for the ISC advance. Now they would be preparing the way for the coming of the Galactic Unity. 


	4. Chapter 1

-Chapter One - Old Wounds-  
  
-Sol System, Sector One, Terran Empire-  
  
2nd Fleet dropped out of slipstream at the desired coordinates. Sol system was locked down tighter than Starfleet Academy's Headmaster's daughter in light of the recent terrorist attacks against Terra and the attack by the Grand Alliance. Nothing civilian went in or out that wasn't searched and thoroughly scanned. Just the same, most of First Fleet had been assembled to provide Second Fleet with an honor guard as they began their daylong impulse cruse to Terra orbit.  
  
Nearly every com channel was filled with raucous celebration. The new leader of the Terran Empire, now styling himself Emperor Jack Chambers thanks to popular support throughout the Empire, had thought that it would be a good idea. Morale was at lows only experienced during the darkest days of the Imperial/Borg war. The people needed a hero, something good to look up to in this time of uncertainty. Upon learning of the exploits of 2nd Fleet in general and Captain Ulysses Vanguard in particular, the Emperor had found his heroes. He had originally planned on having 2nd Fleet out of the way permanently, but given how the rest of his plan had ended up unfolding, he was glad 2nd Fleet had escaped its fate. It gave the civilians something to tack their attention to while he went about further solidifying his grip on power. For they truly needed something to focus their attention on. The last month had been nearly nothing but defeat and terror for the Terran Empire. The civilians had no idea just how close it had come to becoming a conquered empire. What they did know was bad enough. Honoring the Empire's heroes would be one of the best things they could do while they awaited their revenge upon their enemies.  
  
-Imperial Star Ship Athena, Bastion class Monitor, Terra Orbit-  
  
The massive Imperial Terra class shipyard, San Francisco Memorial Shipyard (Formerly San Francisco Shipyard), settled its octopus like metal struts around the Athena with a gentleness one wouldn't expect from a multi billion ton construct. The engineering crews of the Athena were to be commended for their excellent repairs to their ship, but some of her damaged systems and frame segments could only be repaired at a major shipyard. Even as the long metallic supports were curling around the Athena in a loving embrace, thousands of work bees and construction hard suits sprang from the shipyard's hangars, setting about peeling away the emergency hull patches Athena's engineers had worked so hard to emplace.  
  
They looked like a swarm of ants boiling out of their disturbed nest. The Athena herself was for the most part powered down, her pitted and scorched charcoal black hull lit only by the fiery furnace of Sol and the shipyard's spotlights. The yard dogs said that it would be nearly two months before all of her battle damage was fully repaired and the massive warship was again 100% combat capable.  
  
That suited her crew just fine. After coming within a hairs breadth of being killed first by the errant Psychonic attack, then by the powerful Species 8472's counterattack, they felt that they deserved some R&R. While their flagship was stood down, most of the other vessels that made up 2nd Fleet were reassigned to reinforce the Neutral Zone between the Terran Empire and the members of the Grand Alliance. But before that happened, they were treated to a heroes welcome on Terra.  
  
-Progress Road, Moscow, Terra, 10:15 AM local time-  
  
Fleet Admiral T'var sat in the ancient convertible in front of Ulysses, the bright sunlight gleaming off of her polished armor. The automobile T'var sat in was known as a Dodge Viper from the late 20th century. Ulysses sat on the back seat of a Chevrolet Corvette, also from the late 20th century. Both cars had been borrowed from the Historical Automotive Museum of Washington for use in the parade. It was an actual ticker tape parade, with reams of the small paper ribbons falling from the sky. The crowds that lined every available space along the route were cheering wildly, waving Imperial flags madly, held back by local law enforcement officials. After hearing what had happened to San Francisco and seeing the actual devastation from orbit, Ulysses didn't begrudge them a reason to celebrate something. He waved back to the cheering throngs as his car followed T'var's down the parade route. Behind Ulysses, all of his senior officers were similarly being honored. Overhead, flights of seed like fighters and graceful, deadly looking assault shuttles swept by, adding to the spectacle of the parade.  
  
Ulysses might have actually been able to enjoy the hoopla if he hadn't felt that 2nd Fleet's survival had upset some plan initiated by the upper echelons of the Terran Empire. Putting a fake smile on his face and periodically waving to the citizens, he began to think. Someone had sent out that Section 31 Constitution with orders to ensure 2nd Fleet died. It MIGHT have been a rogue operation, but Section didn't recruit those who would do such a thing, making the possibility that it was a rogue very remote. The common joke that Section operatives needed forms signed in triplicate wasn't that far from the mark.  
  
So, if it wasn't a rogue op, who could have started it? To be sure the list wasn't that long. Finding out the source was important, because they may try again having failed the first time. Any one who would sacrifice 2nd Fleet, for any reason, is someone who didn't feel anything about the possible repercussions of their actions. Even in its current strength, 2nd Fleet was the single most powerful offensive fleet in the Empire. So who would have reason to remove such a powerful asset? And why would they want to? The back of his mind nibbled at him that he was missing something glaringly obvious, but for the life of him, he pin down what.  
  
The parade ended at the gates of what had once been the Kremlin in old Moscow. The original had been wiped out with most of old Moscow during WW III. On the same strip of ground now stood an imposing building. It was originally a high priced residential tower, but now it was being renovated to house the Emperor and his staff and entourage. Ulysses had watched his broadcasts with the rest of the Empire, and could have sworn that he knew his voice from somewhere. The face wasn't familiar, for Ulysses had never followed Imperial politics. The new Emperor did take decisive action. Once he learned of High Command and ranking officer involvement in the attack against San Francisco, he had those responsible executed. Like the rest of the fleet, he was shocked that fellow officers could do such an act, but the evidence provided of their guilt was overwhelming.  
  
T'var, Ulysses and the rest of the senior officers from the Athena got out of their cars inside the walled compound and approached the imposing tower. Already, it mounted ablative armor generators and shield emitters for protection. Work parties were slaving away to make them less conspicuous. They were doing the same with the defensive emplacements that had sprung up around the tower. Security was tight, with the entire party having to submit to retinal and DNA tests to authenticate their identities before they were admitted into the tower. Inside, there were guards everywhere, most in full combat armor and carrying military issue grav guns. Entering a turbolift, the heroes were whisked to the upper levels of the tower.  
  
"His Imperial Highness, Emperor Chambers will see you directly!" the young secretary said, a huge smile on her face as she shook their hands in turn. When she shook Ulysses', there was a definite invitation in eyes. He had remembered seeing it in more than a few young ladies in the crowd. A guy could get used to this hero business, Ulysses thought. The two guards in formal dress armor braced to attention as the heroes passed through the open massive double doors to enter what had become the throne room of the Terran Empire. Double sets of marble columns marched down either side of the massive room beyond. Their mostly white with black striations marble contrasted with the mostly emerald with white marble of the floor. A gold, ruby and emerald mosaic of the emblem of the Terran Empire was inlaid in the spotlighted white marble roof. Sunlight streamed in from the floor to ceiling many paned windows that lined three sides of the room. A gaggle of reporters was on hand for the momentous event, standing off to one side, shouting for the Heroes to look their way for a picture. They stopped when a chime sounded.  
  
From the far side of the room, a section of the mosaic roof irised open to allow a small turbolift to settle on the floor of the throne room. From it came the Emperor followed by a young woman, an imposing man and a rather large dog. The Emperor wore a cowled robe of black silk that went nearly to the ground. He drew back the hood as he approached the Athena's officers. The young woman wore a similar robe but in white. She also wore a small tiara studded with diamonds, indicating that she was Crown Princess Dorothy Chambers. The large, muscle bound man wore simple loose clothing, yet his eyes seemed to faintly glow blue and he looked the part of a body guard. The dog that never strayed far from his side also seemed to have glowing blue eyes. The pair was very creepy, making the hairs on Ulysses neck stand up. But then the Emperor was addressing the 2nd Fleet officers and Ulysses dragged his attention back on him.  
  
"Welcome home my friends. It is good to finally meet you all in person."  
  
"You are welcome your Majesty." T'var said, bowing formally with the rest to the newly crowned Emperor of the Terran Empire.  
  
"Here," The Emperor said, snapping his fingers, "I have some small tokens of appreciation for your success against Species 8472." Princess Chambers approached with a small ebony case. She opened it, revealing the gleaming series of medal boxes within. Each department head of the Athena was given a medal in turn. Clay Heidberg, Percy Davenport and P'tel all received the blue, purple and gold ribboned bronze Christopher Pike Medal of Valor. Then, instead of going to Ulysses, as he was next in the line, Jack went to T'var. That was damn peculiar?! Why was he doing that?  
  
"Fleet Admiral T'var, it is my pleasure to bestow upon you the Order of Terra." T'var bowed, helmet under her arm, to have the black and gold ribboned crossed swords on starburst medal placed around her neck. The medal was the second highest medal for valor in the Imperial Starfleet. But why was she given her medal before me Ulysses thought? She's of higher rank, and thus should be given her medal last, unless. Oh hell, they can't possibly be thinking of doing THAT to me!!. can they?  
  
"Captain Ulysses Vanguard," Chambers said as he pulled out the final medal box from the case his daughter was holding, "It is my proud duty to bestow upon you the Lion of Terra for valor above and beyond the call of duty." Ulysses dipped his head to receive the medal only after a few moments of stunned immobility. His eyes went wide as saucers as the rampant lion's head in gold and silver on a midnight blue ribbon settled around his neck. The newsies were busy snapping holo pictures and video of the event. In the history of the Terran Empire, no one below the rank of Rear Admiral had ever received the Lion of Terra. In fact, only 26 officers had ever received one, and 12 of those were posthumorous. The medal allowed him to take a salute from any officer regardless of rank, and with the recent passing of Fleet Admiral Chriton, made him the only serving officer to possess one. No wonder he had been left till last to receive his medal. If T'var had been left till the end, it would have been anticlimactic in the extreme.  
  
"Thank you your Majesty." Ulysses managed to get out. He was surprised his voice didn't squeak.  
  
"Unfortunately, due to your junior rank, you cannot remain in the Captain's chair of the Athena. However, I have pulled some strings and you have been given Captaincy of a new Wraith class nearing completion. Once it has finished outfitting and trials, you are to take it to Starbase 2000 where it will become the flagship of the Delta Quadrant Expeditionary Fleet. Congratulations Captain Vanguard!"  
  
"Thank you your Highness." Ulysses hadn't really expected to stay in command of the Athena. She was to powerful a vessel to leave in command of someone who had been captain only just under a month. What he had gotten in recompense was almost as good though. A Wraith was a very powerful ship to hand a junior Captain, and it spoke of both Starfleet's' and the Emperors faith in him almost more so than the Lion of Terra hanging from his neck. It was only Captain's nearing promotion to Flag Rank that were given command of the heavy capital ships of the Imperial Starfleet.  
  
"Now I'm sure you all want to get changed for the formal ball this evening, so I won't keep you any longer. I just want to thank you all again for your service to the Empire. I'll let you go, because I'm sure that there are a million little things to do before the ball." Then the head of the Terran Empire reentered the turbolift with his daughter and his bodyguard.  
  
It was only after the doors closed and the lift left the throne room that Ulysses finally placed where he had heard the Emperor's voice before. Its last phrase had finally jogged the connections in his brain. White-hot rage boiled out of its prison deep inside of him. He couldn't hold it back, and didn't even want to even if he could have. All of his training for keeping it in check was for nothing, all he knew was the red tide of old hate fueled by old anguish that engulfed his consciousness. Then he felt a sure hand gripping his neck near its base and the world went dark, his hate raging against the galaxy that its revenge was denied when it was so close to fruition. 


	5. Chapter 2

-Chapter Two - Revenge is a Dish Best Served Cold-  
  
The nightmare that often plagued his dreams was back in full force, dredging the pain and loss and hate back to the surface as if they had just happened.  
  
-ICS Oberon, enroute to Sigma Draconis, 2365 AD-  
  
The massive cargo ship Oberon was dragged out of warp by the effects of a Warpfield Inhibitor. Young Ulysses couldn't tell that that was the reason, merely that the ship had left FTL speeds. The quiet, deep, pulse like throbbing of the merchant ships warp core had all but stopped. But that wasn't right. Dad had said that they were going direct to Sigma Draconis. It should have taken considerably longer at the Oberon's plodding Warp 6 to get there from Capella, but for some reason they had dropped out of warp early.  
  
Then the alarms began to wail, followed by previously unlighted bands along the wall flashing the crimson of Red Alert. The small crew of the Oberon began to frantically run towards their duty stations. The Oberon was as large as some starbases, but her crew numbered only 88. Ulysses scurried towards the place his parents had drilled into him to go during just such an emergency.  
  
-ICS Oberon, Deck 3 Section 7-  
  
"Perhaps it's only a routine inspection." Captain Grant Vanguard told his wife hesitantly, worry etching his face. His cool gray eyes were twin pits of desperation as he grasped at anything that could stave off the inevitable. He ran a hand absently through his blond hair.  
  
"You know as well as I do why they are here, and it is for no routine inspection." Selon Vanguard replied with a shake of her head. It caused her cascade of brown curls to toss slightly, and her soft brown eyes were filled with unshed tears.  
  
"But we could hide both of you." Grant began to plead.  
  
"They will not stop until they have me. That is why I must stay. Uly must survive. It is me they want, and if they don't find me, they will be extra thorough in searching the ship. That can't happen, for then they will find both of us. If I stay, they will be satisfied and may well leave the rest of the ship alone. At least this way he has a chance!" Her voice cracked, but she brought her torrent of emotions back under control. "If you tried to save both of us, we would all die. It has to be this way love."  
  
His little legs pumping furiously, 5 year old Ulysses Vanguard rounded the bend to see his mother and father standing right where they had been when they had practiced together.  
  
"You see Papa and Mamma, I came just like we practiced!" Ulysses said, tugging at the hem of his mother's shirt. Both parents fell to their knees and embraced their son.  
  
"Yes you did. You are a very good boy Uly." His father said, eyes brimming with tears as he fiercely gripped his wife and son in a tight embrace.  
  
Selon's tears finally began to fall as she quietly spoke to her son. "Always remember that your Mother and Father love you more than anything. We shall be with you always."  
  
Not completely understanding the true gravity of the situation, Ulysses merely nodded into his mother's shoulder as his small arms wrapped around his parent's necks. He picked up on the tension and sadness of the moment as only a child can. He didn't have to know the specifics, the how's, the why's. All he knew was that his parents were crying and that made him want to cry to.  
  
"You have a powerful destiny awaiting you Uly. I will help and guide you as best I can, but the choices are yours to make. When the time comes, you shall decide which path you take." With a final squeeze Selon released her son and shooed him into the hidden, sensor proofed compartment. It was just big enough for two adults to fit into. "Now remember how we practiced? You have to keep very still and very quiet. Can you do that for Momma?"  
  
"Yes. But aren't you coming in here with me like you did the other times?" Ulysses said, his own eyes glistening with moisture. Selon's face pinched, and fresh tears followed the glistening tracts of the ones that came before.  
  
"Not today Uly. Today you must hide here just like we practiced together." She paused a second as if steeling herself for what she must do. "I love you Uly. Never forget that." She leaned into the compartment and kissed him on the forehead. Then she swung the concealed door shut and locked it. Time seemed to pass slowly, minutes turning to hours, hours turning into days. It hadn't been like that when his mother had been here with him. Then the time had seemed to fly by. Now, with only the cold comfort of the small rooms four walls instead of his mother's tender embrace, it slowed to a terrifying crawl.  
  
-ICS Oberon, Deck 3 Section 7, outside the hidden compartment-  
  
Selon and Grant Vanguard clung to each other, sobbing into one another's shoulders.  
  
"But if you used your powers, you could stop all this from happening!" Grant said between sobs, trying desperately to find another way for the coming events to play out.  
  
"That is not the path to be taken. If I do that, we all will die. It must be this way. As painful as it will be for Uly, it is better than the death or worse that would await him if I chose the other path."  
  
"I never claimed to understand this ability of yours to peer into the possible futures, all I have done is come to believe in it." With a shuddering sigh, he continued. "If you say that the other choices are worse for Uly, then we must do what we must." He leaned foreword and they kissed passionately. They wanted to make the moment last forever, but knew that it could not. After a precious few seconds, he broke off the embrace and walked over to the wall mounted com.  
  
"Grant to William." he said, his voice raw with emotion and his eyes bloodshot. The raspy voice of the Oberon's first officer came over the com.  
  
"William here. What are your orders Captain?"  
  
"You will heave to and drop shields."  
  
"But sir, your wife is still."  
  
"I KNOW damn you! Follow your orders!" Grant snapped as his eyes drifted back to his doomed wife. All the emotion's he was feeling boiled over and filled his voice, but he forced it to soften, not wanting to hurt his friend as the last thing he did. "Sorry, wasn't angry at you, just at the entire damn universe." He gave another shuddering sigh. "No matter what, look after Uly for us."  
  
"I. I swear to you Skipper, on my soul, I'll look after him." William Petersmith replied, his own voice growing heavy with emotion as his CO and best friend told him, however obliquely, that he was going to die. The entire crew of the Oberon was more like a family than anything else. They all knew just what Selon Vanguard was, and they didn't care. They all had no love for the Terran Empire. The crew were all fiercely devoted to their captain and each other, and if Grant wanted to thumb his nose at Imperial edicts, that was just fine by them.  
  
"Good man. It's." Grant's voice cracked, which he covered up with a cough. "It's been a pleasure serving with all of you. May fate be kind to you. Vanguard out."  
  
Hand in hand, their expressions schooled into neutrality despite their inner hurricane of emotions, Grant and Selon turned and walked towards the turbolift. They made it half way down the hall when the whine of a transporter came from behind them. Turning, they saw a complete squad of power armored Section 31 operatives. They all carried the shoulder flashes of Bureau of Purity. Bu Purity had been established by Section 31 to keep Vulcan and Human genetic stock as pure as possible, eliminating all half- breed children they came across. When the edict went out to hunt down and kill all El Aurian's in the Empire, they were only too happy to oblige.  
  
"Well well, the El Aurian and the ships Captain together. Why am I not surprised." The evident leader of the squad said.  
  
"What do you want!" Grant said, his fear giving way to rage.  
  
"My dear Captain, you know exactly what I want. The Council has ordered that all El Aurians be killed, so it shall be done. It's as simple as that. And the punishment for harboring them is also death. But since I'm in a generous mood, I'll only execute you along with her. The rest of your crew shall be spared to tell others of your fate. It will prevent further such actions on the part of others."  
  
"Why are you doing this!" Grant pleaded. "She has done nothing wrong!" His face was defiant, but Selon's was almost serene. She could see the path now very clearly. Ulysses would live. That was enough.  
  
"I have my orders." It was said as if that made what he was about to do all right. His mechanical sounding voice emanating from his suits external speakers didn't betray any emotion at all. That was the worst part. This man seemed to feel nothing as he raised his phaser rifle and fired two quick shots. Both Grant and Selon Vanguard disappeared as their bodies disintegrated. After a short inspection of the rest of the ship and her remaining crew, the team left satisfied that there were no other enemies of the state hiding on the ship. They had gotten the only one they knew about, and uncovering no others, they had completed their mission. Before he left, the squad commander addressed seething yet impotent bridge crew.  
  
"I'll let you go now, because I'm sure that there are a million little things to do before you get back on your way, but ensure that I never have to visit this vessel again. If I do, I will kill every last one of you." Then the leader keyed his comm. "Squad leader to 332, one to beam out. The transporter wined, causing the squad leader to fade out of existence. A glob of spit sent his way by William Petersmith merely passed through his dissolving body to land on the deck behind it.  
  
-ICS Oberon, Deck 3 Section 7, 30 minutes later-  
  
It was a softly crying William who opened the hidden door to the small room.  
  
"Uncle Willie, where's Momma, where's Poppa?" Ulysses demanded as he scrambled out of the small room.  
  
"They're gone Uly." William forced himself to get out. The kid needed to know the truth.  
  
It was a simple sentence, but its meaning was hidden. Not even William could bring himself to say that they were actually dead, not now when their memory was still so fresh. But Ulysses was somehow able to piece together what it really meant. In one brief instant, sheltered young Ulysses learned just how horrible the universe could be. He burst into tears, clinging tightly to the man that he knew as Uncle Willie even as Uncle Willie cried and clung to him. His entire universe was shattered, never to be the same again.  
  
-Penthouse, Ritz Hotel, Moscow, 2387-  
  
Ulysses awoke from the nightmare with hot tears trailing down his cheeks. He snarled half in fury, half in pain, the sound a wounded animal makes. Yet he was that helpless boy no longer. He had finally uncovered the man responsible for his parent's murder, only to have his chance to avenge their deaths slip away like a handful of sand through open fingers.  
  
"Why did you stop me!?!" He growled at T'var who sat with typical Vulcan serenity in a chair at the foot of his bed. He was both angry with her and himself. With her because she had stopped him from achieving his near life long dream, one he had sworn to accomplish. With himself because he hadn't figured out just who the culprit was sooner. To think I actually thought that the new Emperor might be different than the rest of the scum. Why, I wouldn't be surprised if he hadn't had a part in trying to take out 2nd Fleet. Knowing what I know now, it's a distinct possibility.  
  
"Because if I didn't you would have tried to kill the new Emperor of the Terran Empire. Your attempt would not have succeeded, and even if it had, another would merely take his place, changing nothing."  
  
"You don't understand! That bastard MURDERED my parents! How can you sit there and tell me killing him is not justified?!"  
  
"I never said that it wasn't. But now that you know he was the one who did, we must plan accordingly. As much as I deplore killing, just as Spock did, there are certain instances when it is unavoidable. The time is not yet right for doing what you seek, for there is much yet to prepare. In time you shall have your revenge, just as in time we shall set the Empire free from all people like Jack Chambers. But today is not that day."  
  
As she spoke, a calming wind seemed to blow through his soul. 'Trust T'var Uly. Now is not the time.' He heard his mother's voice say in his head.  
  
The anger inside of him fought against the calming breeze, but in the end it was once again in its cage. Peace flooded through him, then the warm presence was gone again. Ulysses sighed.  
  
"You're right of course. But one day, I WILL kill that son of a bitch!" Ulysses swore, his fists balling the covers on the bed, his knuckles turning white.  
  
"I expected nothing less. Even I might be driven to such an end if he had killed my parents. What we must do in the mean time is expand the resistance. We are greater than even Section suspects, but we must become more powerful still before we strike." T'var said. "Now too more current matters, I was forced to nerve pinch you in order to keep you from attacking the Emperor. I said that getting your medal and meeting the emperor proved too much for you and you fainted. You might even be able to be excused from the ball unless you feel that you can keep your thirst for retribution in check."  
  
"I can keep in on a short leash. Now that I'm thinking again, I can see what my rage obscured. Now is indeed not the time, for not only do I want to get rid of that.man," Ulysses spat the title like a foul piece of food, "from the face of the universe, I want to do the same with all those like him. I don't want anyone in the universe to go through what I was forced to. No body should have to experience that, yet far to many in this sorry excuse for a galaxy have to. If the only way I can do that is to bide my time until the time is right, that's what I'll do. Revenge is a dish best served cold. And when I finally am able to serve it, it will be very cold indeed!" 


	6. Chapter 3

-Chapter Three - The Valley Forge-  
  
-Terra Orbit, Sol System, Sector One, Two days later-  
  
The Orbital Shuttle glided up through Terra's atmosphere, the sky darkening from light blue to navy blue to black in the shuttles massive foreword and aft panoramic windows as the swift shuttle left the last vestiges of oxygen and nitrogen behind. As it cruised towards its destination, it passed by the recovery efforts still ongoing in Terra orbit. The massive spacedock and battle stations were still shrouded in the shattered remains of their wounded hulls. Work bees were swarming around them, patching hulls and gathering the broken, twisted wreckage for recycling. Behind the shuttle, just popping over the horizon near the dawning sun, a dark pall appeared. It was the site of the first successful attack on Terra in over 200 years. Over two billion dead, with the exact numbers still not known. Numbers that big were hard to grasp in there true scope. They tended to become a sad statistic, people not directly affected by the attack forgetting the true cost, the pain, the all to human side of the attacks. The fact that the Terran Empire hadn't hesitated to execute similar attacks in the past on ENTIRE planets was conveniently left out of the news reports on the disaster. It didn't excuse what the Grand Alliance had done to Terra, for they had merely sunk to its despicable level as far as Ulysses was concerned. Yet the GA did have a certain perverse justification for what it had done. The attack had caused chaos in the core worlds, keeping the final maneuvers of the GA fleets hidden from the forefront of both civilian and military minds. I had enabled them to retake their homeland, to throw off the yoke of their Terran taskmasters.  
  
The sheer enormity of the cleanup and forced terraforming of most of California to repair the damage the Mauler beam had caused was mind boggling. A few thousand survivors had been found in the rubble, but it was now feared that all that was left would be body retrieval. Even with modern sensors, weak biosigns buried beneath billions of tons of rubble and shorting out electronics were hard to find. Some rubble was to deep to beam out survivors, which meant that old-fashioned moving of the pile by hand was required. Modern cutting implements and tractor beam emitters made the job far easier than it would have normally been, but it was still horrible, tedious work. Transporters were mostly unable to help out, because the sudden loss of as much mass as they could transport out might cause a deadly shift in the surrounding rubble.  
  
Of ground zero, the site in what had been downtown San Francisco where the Council tower had stood tall, there was only a volcano like pit filled with bubbling, churning lava that was slowly scabbing over as it cooled. California had grown by a surprising amount as well, the massive slabs of still cooling lava flows trailing from where San Francisco had been downhill to the sea. A massive cloud of smoke and ash still hung over much of western North America, reaching high up into the stratosphere. The Weather Control satellites were trying their best to remove it, and were slowly making headway against it. Despite this, most of the state's neighboring California were now in perpetual twilight as the heavy cloud blocked out the sun. Without the Weather Control network, all of Terra might have fallen into what was once known as a Nuclear Winter. Ulysses tore his eyes away from the funeral pyre that still burned on Terra. It reminded him too much of his own personal loss so recently brought back to the forefront of his mind. It also reminded him of what he hoped to eventually accomplish. The goal of all followers of Spock was to create a world where attacks like the one on San Francisco don't happen.  
  
The rest of his officers joining him on his new ship also took long hard stares at the continued devastation Terra had had set loose upon her. But they were a levelheaded bunch. Most of them had seen first hand what a total orbital bombardment did to a planet and none of them liked it. They too seemed to want to eliminate the need for such attacks on BOTH sides of the conflict. Some of them might even prove good candidates for becoming followers of Spock. But now, more than ever, the followers of Spock had to tread lightly. Section 31 commissars had been added to all starships. They were there to keep an eye on Starfleet personnel in light of the traitorous actions some had engaged in of late. Yet Ulysses now thought that the quick arrests, trials and executions of so many high-ranking officers, despite the "evidence" that had appeared, was just a little to neat and tidy. Some of the accusations were undoubtedly true, for if one dug deep enough, one was bound to find something incriminating. But knowing now just what Emperor Jack Chambers was personally capable of, getting rid of his most obvious contenders for power was a painfully obvious tactic. And now with Section spies on every vessel in the fleet, there was bound to be more arrests and executions for many years to come.  
  
The shuttle whizzed by the multitudinous battle stations, orbital weapons platforms and starships that hovered near by Terra, following its assigned route perfectly. With so many objects, many of them capable of high PSL maneuvers, staying where orbital control told you was an absolute must. The small shuttle approached the massive conglomeration of shipyards known simply as The Yard. Every time one came to Sol system, The Yard was subtly different. It was constantly expanding, ships entering and leaving its births, more shipyard modules being added. The Yard in its current form resembled a series of wheels on a long central axis. The wheels were made up of many spokes that terminated in an shipyard. There were currently over 100 of the massive Imperial Terra class shipyards operational on The Yard, with over 4000 slips total including the lesser shipyards. The entire construct was close to 150 km long, and a very imposing sight in Terra's night sky. Still more battle stations, OWPs and starships stood guard around her. The Yard was operational 24/7, with work bees and hardsuited engineers and yard dogs diligently working on new starships for the Empire. Hulls in various states of completion sat in the arms of their slips. All kinds of vessels were being built in her many slips. Small Saber class frigates, tough Defiant class destroyers, the new, deadly sleekness of Soulwolfs, Prometheus and Akira class battlecruisers, Sovereign and Galaxy class battleships and the massive, brute force power of Wraith super dreadnoughts could all be seen in varying states of completion. In the six years since the termination of the Imperial/Borg war, most sector defense fleets had been built back up to near prewar strengths. It was mainly in the offensive fleets that hull numbers were still dangerously under strength.  
  
With the new threat of the Grand Alliance, the yard crews were working even harder to make up the losses in capital ships. Stations similar to, but not as massive as, The Yard were in operation at Alpha Centauri and Vulcan, to say nothing of the smaller shipyards scattered throughout the Empire. An Imperial Terra class yard could turn out, if constantly supplied with enough raw materials, three Wraith class starships in about 240 days. Smaller ships took logically shorter time spans.  
  
Cmdr. Clay Heidberg let out a low whistle as he took in some of the new ships being built. "They finally started building the Excalibur class Fleet Carriers!" He said in quiet awe. The Excalibur class was slightly bigger than a Wraith class at 1500 m in length. They could house close to 200 Cobra Fighters each, and were respectable offensive platforms themselves. They resembled a cross between the Sovereign and Ark Royal classes.  
  
"Yup. About time to, the design is nearly obsolete. What they should do is take the Wraith class hull as a base and convert it to a carrier. It's a faster platform with almost the same internal volume." Ulysses replied. Heidberg could only grunt in reply, for what his Captain had said was the honest truth. Bu Ships wasn't known for high speed introduction of new designs, especially new designs that contradict their pet theories of warship design. Far to many of the brass at Bu Ships was from the time when Carriers weren't required. Now, with the need for as much firepower to be put into space as possible, they had no choice in the matter. It was both cheaper and faster to put a Fleet Carrier and its brood into space than it was to put a similarly sized SD. But while the fighter/carrier combo had better raw firepower, a SD had CONSIDERABLY more staying power against a heavy opponent. Hence both designs had their place in the grand scheme of things. And while carriers might not be the best for attacking an enemy battle wall, they were excellent for anti piracy missions and raids on lightly defended targets.  
  
Rank hath its privileges, and Ulysses now had access to considerably more information than he had while he was a Lt. Cmdr. Through that, he had learned just how valuable those ships and the fighters they carried would be. Between raids by the GA members and a sudden rise in pirate activity Empire wide, every new hull put into space ASAP would better protect the shipping lanes that were the life blood of the Imperial economy.  
  
While standard replicators on sight could handle most of the basic needs of a planets population, a lot of rare or hard to replicate items needed to be manufactured off of colony worlds and shipped there. This included things like aircars and other mechanical devices to large for a standard replicator to handle. Industrial replicators were extremely expensive and maintenance prone, so they were usually only found in core systems.  
  
"There she is! .I think." Heidberg exclaimed, slightly unsure. And who could blame him, with the sheer amount of construction going on it was hard to pick out a specific ship unless you knew exactly where to look.  
  
"Where!?" The other officers said at the same time.  
  
"Even with us and a little to the left, behind the half finished Soulwolfs there." Heidberg said, pointing towards a spoke that ended in an Armstrong class shipyard. It housed four unfinished Soulwolfs, but the next spoke from the central hub held a Wraith class. Ulysses looked and could just make out the upper dorsal surfaces of his new command, but even if the entire ship were visible it would only be about the size of a pinky fingernail at the current range. That meant that she was far too distant for her construction number and name to be seen as anything other than a silver smear on her prow.  
  
"Ensign, request approach and docking clearance with Yard traffic control." Ulysses said.  
  
"Aye, aye sir!" the extremely young looking pilot of the Orbital Shuttle said in almost a squeak. He had never in his short career been in such close proximity to real live heroes and was more than a little nervous. Was I ever that young Ulysses thought? "Shuttle Sierra Lima Two Zero Three Seven to Yard Traffic Control, requesting approach corridor and docking clearance."  
  
"Roger that SL-2037, transmitting corridor and docking clearance now."  
  
"Thank you, Yard Control, Shuttle SL-2037 out." On the shuttle's panel, a highlighted path appeared. The young ensign at the shuttles controls moved seemingly effortlessly to follow it. The bulk of The Yard grew in the shuttles bubble window, eventually blocking out the stars. Unfortunately, the docking bay they were assigned to was on the opposite side of the starbase as the slip of his new command was. After a quick trip across the station to the appropriate spoke, Ulysses presented his documentation. The lightly armored marine sentry gave the presented PADD a thorough examination, calling up records on his own terminal to ensure they matched. He did the same for the rest of the officers with Ulysses, clearing Cmdr. P'tel, Cmdr. Heidberg, Cmdr. Davenport, Lt. Cmdr. Eaton and his new helm officer, Lt. Demora Sulu (named after her grandmother) in turn. Once he was satisfied, he nodded to his fellow to stand aside from the corridor.  
  
"You and your party are cleared for entry sir!" He said bracing to attention and snapping off a salute. Ulysses returned it smartly, then proceeded down the hall. Each spoke of the station was five decks high, but the top deck was special. It was arched down its length, but the roof was made up of transparent aluminum, giving a breathtaking view of the station as it stretched away above the spoke. What was better was that it gave an almost totally unobstructed view of the ship hanging in the arms of the yard slip at the end of it. Her knife edge lines were clearly visible from Ulysses side profile view of her. Spotlights gleamed on her charcoal hull as hardsuited yard dogs worked with chem catalyst gear to lay down the final few patches of ablative armor while others worked on attaching the odd ablative armor generator or small patch of hull plateing. She was basically complete, the spotlights shining down on her silver hull pennant. The ISS Valley Forge, New Construction Contract 4045 - B.  
  
She wasn't the usual Wraith class, that much was obvious from a cursory examination. Where a normal Wraith was angular with more rounded edges, this one was dagger like. All edges came to sharp points. Where a usual Wraith looked like a warship just because of sheer size and brute power, the Valley Forge looked like a warship because it was like a carefully honed blade. The brute power was still there, but it was merely an addition to the impact of the new hull form. It was like comparing a war hammer to a great sword. Both can kill, but the great sword looks deadly just sitting there. From her needle like prow to her expanded shuttle bay, Ulysses fell in love with her from the moment he first laid eyes on her. Even unpowered and sitting in her construction slip, she possessed a naked lethality. And she was his in a way none of his other commands could have been. He was her first master, meaning that he would mold her crew into his vision of what a crew should be.  
  
"Ladies and Gentlemen," Ulysses said to his officers who had stopped dead in their tracks upon getting their first clean look at their new ship, "I give you your new home, the ISS Valley Forge, NCC 4045-B. She's a Wraith class upgrade, which means she's faster and meaner than any other Super Dreadnought in space. For STL engines, she has Borg drives instead of impulse. This makes her both slightly faster and considerably more maneuverable in normal space. Max rated STL speed of 77 PSL with a maneuver class of 3 (putting it on par with a Sovereign). And with no massive impulse engine housings to target, she'll be able to hang in a fight a lot longer without taking drive damage. Standard layout of quad slipstream cores mated with four more powerful nacelles, enabling us to keep pace with a Soulwolf in slipstream. New, more knife like hull form also contributes to the higher speed.  
  
Triple foreword and single aft Phaser Lance Mk 2's, One front and back down the centerline, one on either side of the foreword primary hull 30 degrees off centerline. Standard fore and aft Heavy Photon Torpedo tube but with extended magazine space thanks to the widened secondary hull. Four foreword burst fire Quantum Torpedo turrets, two on the dorsal primary hull, two on the ventral primary hull. Two aft burst fire Quantum Torpedo turrets nestled aft of the nacelle hull joints. 25 Phalanx Torpedo/dual Pulse Phaser Cannon turrets scattered strategically across her hull. And last but not least, 22 Type XV Phaser arrays for primary armament.  
  
Phase cloaking ability, along with standard cloak and holographic chameleon skin. Mk 5 ECM Drones, Holographic Main and Flag bridge command displays. She's got extra Ablative Armor and Mk 2Ablative Armor Generators. Newest Shield generators with nearly double the output of the old ones. You all have a week to come fully up to speed on all her systems, because in just over a week, well be taking her out for her space worthiness trials. Now that you have seen the outside of her, let's see the inside shall we?" Ulysses said, then started walking down the spoke again. After half a pause, the rest of his senior officers followed him. All of their eyes greedily took in their new ship as they walked towards her. 


	7. Chapter 4

-Chapter Four - By the Prickling of my Thumbs.-  
  
-Imperial Palace Tower, Moscow-  
  
Frank and Victoria were just exiting the turbolift on the floor above the throne room when the both felt a massive telepathic surge. A sudden torrent of rage and pain flooded into them, totally unexpected, catching them unawares. The sheer force of the emotions was almost stronger than even the Fury pair combined could generate. They slammed into the Furies unprepared minds like a sledgehammer, causing them temporary paralysis as they fought to drive the thoughts from their minds and slam their telepathic shields fully into place. Yet they never got the chance, for almost as quickly as the surge came, it faded away to nothingness. Noting that his highly efficient body guards had stopped suddenly, Jack turned around to find out the problem.  
  
"What's the matter?"  
  
-We aren't sure your Majesty. For a moment it was as if a very powerful mind was set loose, then vanished as quickly as it arose. It is most peculiar.- Frank said in Jack's mind.  
  
"Do you have any idea whose mind it was?"  
  
-No, nor do we know how close the mind was. It was there and gone so quickly that we couldn't localize it before it disappeared.-  
  
"Does it pose a threat?"  
  
-We do not believe so, but we shall be extra acute in our guard duties.- The Furies opinion was good enough for Jack. He nearly immediately shifted from personal concern to matters of business.  
  
"I have been meaning to talk to you about them. I feel that another Fury pair can keep watch over me for a little while. I need someone I can trust to be my eyes, and I trust no one more than the two of you."  
  
-We live to serve the Empire, your Majesty.- Victoria's voice sounded inside Jack's head.  
  
"I know you do. Lately, there have been rumblings that the minor powers in the Delta Quadrant have been moving in to former Borg Space, taking over planets that are rightly ours. I believe that my plan for solidifying power might have worked to well, for my underlings are scared to bring me unhappy news. The data analysts might be skewing their results to provide a seemingly more pleasant answer than is the truth. I want the two of you to go the Delta Quadrant and find out if there is any facts to these rumblings or if I am merely jumping at shadows. If they are invading our space, a battle fleet or two will teach them the error of their ways. While they may not be able to do much in the current situation against the Grand Alliance, they will prove more than a handful for any enemy the Delta Quadrant can send against us."  
  
-We understand. When do you want us to go?-  
  
"As soon as is convenient for you."  
  
-It shall be done your Majesty.-  
  
-Section 31 Starbase 001, Terra Orbit, Sol System-  
  
Inside the hollowed out inside of Section 31's primary starbase, a frigate- sized vessel began to power up for operation. She was no ordinary frigate though, for she only had a small, single deck command section deep in her heart. The rest of her was a near solid wall of weapons, armor and subsystems. Small, computer controlled drones scurried about her miniscule passageways, performing the tasks that a starship's crew would normally have done. Inside the ship, blue light strips activated along with the lone manual control station. The whine of a transporter was heard, and two figures materialized on the Spartan bridge. One was a tall man dressed all in black. His trench coat fell almost to the ground, and his glowing eyes were hidden behind a pair of sunglasses. The other was a large dog, her gray coat tinged with brown. Her eyes glowed faintly blue as well. As Frank and Victoria settled in to their seats, physical restraints and tractor beams activated, holding them securely against any unexpected movement.  
  
The Furies reached out with their computer augments, binding themselves to the ship, making it an extension of themselves. The computer recognized them and granted full system access. Within seconds, all ships systems were powered up and cross-checked for irregularities. With a speed only computers can achieve, Frank sent a series of commands to the ships computer. Borg STL drives activated as all moorings were cleared. Once the ship was underway, it activated phase cloak and slipped through the armored hull of the starbase. The ships computer meshed with its Fury commanders, its sensors becoming extensions of their own. By mere thought, orders were sent to the ship's computer, molding the ships systems into extensions of the two Furies' bodies. A course was plotted and the ships QSS drive came online. The totally invisible starship disappeared into the many-layered realm of subspace.  
  
-Section 31 Starbase 001 Ops Deck-  
  
The duty command officer looked at the holo of the base's interior as sensors alerted him to the Stalker class Frigate's powering up. One second the powerful vessel was in standby, the next it was fully online, disconnecting from its umbilicals and bringing its phase cloak online. The sleek, sharp edged, stiletto shaped, matte pitch-black hull with dual gleaming red eye like main deflectors near its prow flipped end for end in the blink of an eye. She bore no markings, no windows, no identifying marks of any kind, merely her eye like crimson main deflectors set in her black hull. She merely radiated a sense of doom and foreboding. The deadly vessel was moving rapidly towards the nearest internal wall of the station as it rippled and faded from normal space.  
  
The command officer suppressed a shudder of relief as the evil looking craft disappeared. At least it wouldn't be his responsibility for a while. There were still nineteen other Stalkers sitting in their docking slips on the station, but even a reduction in their number by one was a vast relief. The frigate-sized craft packed enough armor, shields and weaponry to give a Wraith class Super Dreadnought a run for its money. If Section needed something done that couldn't use normal channels, it called upon the Furies and their Stalkers. No one out side of a select few high-ranking officials in Section knew exactly what they were capable of, and that mystery merely added to their already impressive reputation. All people in the empire feared the Furies, even those who didn't quite believe that they existed. Those that did know they existed were terrified of them. Section might watch the Empire and Starfleet, but the Furies watched over all three and answered only to the Council. With it now gone, they answered to only one man, Emperor Jack Chambers.  
  
-Sovereign Class ISS Enterprise NCC-1701-E, Terra Orbit, Sol System-  
  
Admiral Thomas Riker sat in his command chair on the Enterprise's Flag Bridge with his customary grin perking the corners of his mouth. His new brilliant white and gold uniform was immaculate. Just like his rise to the seat he now occupied. He hadn't had to stoop to assassination or a personal challenge to get rid of Picard. The new Emperor had done that dirty piece of business for him, clearing the way for his ascension to Flag rank. After so many years of playing second fiddle to Picard, Thomas was finally in total control of one of the most decorated and best known warships in Starfleet. There had always been an Enterprise. Even before Starfleet was formed, the name Enterprise had a long and honored history in Terran's navies. Every Enterprise since the original Constitution class NCC- 1701 and even Captain Archer's NX-01 had possessed a stellar battle record. The Enterprise-E was no different. With the loss of the Enterprise-D during the Imperial/Dominion war, the one of the earliest production Sovereigns was given the Enterprise name and cereal number. The battle records from each Enterprise that had served in Starfleet had been added to the Enterprise-E's own battle record, but she had soon added to that record all on her own. The latest Enterprise, while not as new and powerful as some of the larger current capital ship designs, was still a deadly vessel with over 9000 confirmed kills.  
  
Thomas glanced over to the seven dedication plaques mounted near the primary Flag Bridge turboshaft. So great had each Enterprise proven in battle, that each one had had its battle records passed on to subsequent vessels. It was usually only one or two ships that distinguished themselves so fully, such as the original Constitution and the latest one, the Constitution-D. Yet the name Enterprise had become congruent with success. She was as close as the Terran Empire came to an actual Starfleet wide Flagship. Every citizen knew of the exploits of the starships Enterprise. The Enterprise was the ship every cadet dreamed about serving on. She was the ship every officer dreamed of commanding. And now, finally, she was Thomas Riker's.  
  
When Picard had finally been promoted to flag rank, Thomas had though he had died and gone to heaven the first time he had sat in the main bridge's command chair and known it was totally his. Yet that memory was but a pale comparison to finally sinking into the command chair on the Enterprise's flag bridge. Being Captain of the Enterprise was good. Being Admiral of the Enterprise Battle Group was better. And the last vestiges of that traitor Picard would be erased from her soon, for the Enterprise's BG was to be rotated out to the new boarder to be used in strike missions against the self styled Grand Alliance. There was currently no better place to add to the Enterprise's battle record than there, and Thomas couldn't wait for the opportunity that the upcoming missions presented.  
  
Thomas looked over a status report handed to him by a crewman, nodding absently as the report told him that everything was running smoothly. The turbolift doors opened quietly behind him, almost lost in the background noise of the active Flag Bridge. Thomas felt a presence enfold his mind. It was both pleasant and mildly painful at the same time. What' the hell. Thomas thought. He began to turn around to try and identify the source of the intrusion into his thoughts when a voice stopped him cold.  
  
"Hello Tom, its good to finally catch up with you again."  
  
-Orion Cartel Starbase 'Flying Dutchman', Near the new Cardassian Union/Terran Empire Border, That same time -  
  
Peter O'tole entered his lavish quarters thoroughly satisfied with the current state of affairs in the Galaxy. Phase one of the original plan had called for bleeding the TE white in a long campaign on all fronts. With the introduction of the Breen Energy Dampening Weapon, phase one had been modified for the utter destruction of the TE. With the new weapon, that goal had seemed attainable. Yet the Terrans had managed to find a counter to it with startling rapidity. The end result was a stalemate with both sides concentrating their forces in core systems and along their new mutual boarder. While not as good of a result as the revised plan had called for, it was almost as good as the original one. Regardless of the first phase's outcome, the second phase was about to commence. It had been slightly modified to take advantage of the new dispositions of the fleets involved. Phase two had been designed to spread chaos and destruction across whomever survived phase one. Since both sides had survived, both sides would be engaged.  
  
No plan ever survived contact with the enemy, but the plan devised by Peter's masters was adaptive enough to make use of the current military and political situation in the Alpha, Beta and Delta Quadrants. The chaos and destruction he would meat out would warm any pirate's soul, and despite its now massive power base, the Orion Cartel was little removed from its pirate ancestry. Peter smiled a predatory as he settled into a comfortable chair.  
  
And soon thereafter phase three would commence, proving the first two phases mere sideshows in comparison.  
  
-Imperial Exploratory Fleet 8, Delta Quadrant, Near Galactic Fringe-  
  
-Battle Group Log, Stardate 14052387: Another day and another "miraculous" spacial anomaly to stop and chart. Sometimes I think that Admiral October and his Scifleet Captains do it on purpose because he knows just how much it aggravates us gunslingers to have to stop almost every light-year. We haven't encountered a combative species in weeks, and I am gravely concerned that even in spite of my regimen of combat drills, the ships of my Battle Group are loosing their edge. Part of me is beginning to question the intelligence level of Starfleet Command, for I can find no intelligent reason to keep my ships out here in the armpit of the galaxy while the real action is happening right in the Empire's back yard. I will try my best to keep my ships in peak combat form incase my requests for transfer are finally answered, but till then all I can do is continue to nursemaid my charges as they slowly plod across the Quadrant.-  
  
How she managed to get stuck shepherding a pack of Scifleet rabble as they went from star to star searching through space for valuable resources and useful technology was beyond Admiral Kathryn Janeway. After all she and the Intrepid class Voyager-A did during the Imperial/Borg War, Starfleet Command had seen fit to reward them by attaching her battle squadron to the latest round of exploratory missions into the newly opened up Delta Quadrant. The five Intrepids and ten Sabers of the Voyager Battle Group were now providing escort for three of Scifleet's Nebulas and a lone Atlas class cargo ship. While the Scifleet battle cruisers retained much of their Starfleet standard weaponry, they lacked the massive weapons pods that most of their cousins sported. In their place, one carried a SWAC array, the next a massive cargo storage pod, and the last a hangar to house the plethora of specialized survey vehicles all survey missions required. While the Terran Empire had only recently taken out the Borg, opening their former space for colonization, they always were looking ahead to the future. As such, there were always at least a few minor battle groups scouting out beyond the borders of explored space in search of new opportunities that the Terran Empire could exploit. Just the same, with the recent resurgence of the conquered Empires in the Alpha and Beta quadrants, Kathryn thought that a battle group with such a strong battle record would have been recalled to help bolster the defense of the remaining core worlds. Instead they were being left out here in the middle of nowhere, babysitting a bunch of nerdy pansies that seemed bound and determined to stop and thoroughly investigate every insignificant spatial anomaly and new culture that they came upon.  
  
Some of those new cultures had proven hostile to even the mostly peaceful Exploratory Fleet. Some of those same hostile cultures had even given the Exploratory Fleet some trouble. True most of them didn't stand much of a chance if Starfleet decided to drop a battle fleet on their doorstep, but the Voyager Battle Group and the Scifleet ships it was escorting were far from a full on Terran Empire battle fleet. The fact that word had gotten around that Exploratory Fleet 8 represented the same species that had brought the Borg down had helped save them from most of the intelligent species in their survey path. It hadn't stopped species like the Kazon, the Vidiians, the Hirogen and the Krenim from sniping at them when they thought they could get away with it. They had proven interesting, sometimes dangerous opponents, but they in most cases lacked sufficient size or firepower to pose a risk to the Terran Empire. Over the past two years Kathryn had experienced enough scientific exploration to last two life times. She longed to be back in the thick of things instead of off on some mostly useless survey and scouting mission. 


	8. Chapter 5

-Chapter Five - Phase Two-  
  
-ISS Valley Forge, Docked at Slip 3652, The Yard, Sol System-  
  
-Captain's Log, Stardate 17052387: After a week of getting to know my new command and her crew, I am deeply impressed. Perhaps it is the new threat to the Terran Empire, or perhaps it is mere luck of the draw. Regardless of the cause, there are very few bad apples among my people. I have supreme confidence in my department heads to do their duties and ensure that those under them do so as well. We have yet to be assigned a Section Commissar, which I find slightly troubling. I had hoped for one to be assigned nearly as soon as I assumed command, but none have been forth coming. One has been assured to me to be present when the Valley Forge completes her space trials and returns to The Yard for final commissioning.  
  
The Valley Forge is ready to begin her space trials. With all four QSS Cores online for the first time, the ship seems alive, almost straining against her moorings for the boundlessness of open space. Today, we shall see just what this ship can do.-  
  
"Mr. Heidberg," Ulysses said as he sat comfortably in his command chair, "is everything set on your end?"  
  
"Aye sir. All Slipstream Cores are at optimal power and all other systems are in normal ranges. We are ready to begin whenever you are." The chief engineer sounded proud of himself, and he had every right to be. It was he and his engineers that had picked up on a possibly dangerous fluctuation in QSS Core Three, not -The Yard's- engineers and shipwrights. -The Yard's- work crews had jumped to swap it out of course, for it wouldn't do to anger one of the youngest and most decorated Captains in Starfleet. It was only after the replacement met with Clay Heidberg's approval that Ulysses had signed off on the job as completed. And now, the -Valley Forge- was about to slip from her construction berth for the first time.  
  
"Very good Mr. Heidberg, we will be departing momentarily." With a small motion of his gauntleted hand, the holo com channel to main engineering terminated. All around him, Ulysses could see the vast, awe inspiring panorama of -The Yard-. Peering at the indistinct shape directly to the front of his chair, he gave his orders. "Helm, take us out."  
  
"Aye sir. Brining running lights up. All airlocks closed, casting off all moorings and umbilicals." As Lt. Demora Sulu spoke, her hands flew across her panel entering the necessary commands. Outside the -Valley Forge-, her own spotlights cast pools of sharp edged light on her pennants and registry for the first time as -The Yard's- spotlights went out. Running lights snapped on, only to blink off again seconds later as they began to slowly strobe. The great arms like appendages of -The Yard- let loose and spread apart almost like a flower opening up to the first light of dawn.  
  
"Foreword thrusters at ¼." P'tel ordered from across the bridge.  
  
"Foreword thrusters at ¼ aye sir." Demora replied. With a few more key presses, the great ship began to inch its way clear from its slip as strategically placed micro fusion engines lit off. Nearly all of the yard dogs responsible for her construction were present either in hardsuits anchored to the slip arms or inside the arms looking out the transparent aluminum arch roof. The quad angular spindles that made up the -Valley Forge's- slipstream nacelles emerged into space and the light of Sol as they went past the sheltering bulk of -The Yard-. Soon the rest of the ship joined them, the yellow/white light gleaming warmly off of her hull.  
  
"We are clear of -The Yard- Captain." P'tel said as the great ship stopped her dead slow reverse and hung motionless in space beside -The Yard-.  
  
  
  
"Good job Helm." Demora smiled at her holo-enshrouded captain. "Ok, contact Sol Traffic Control and request a flight path out of the system. Bring the Slipstream and STL drives fully online." The holo image of -The Yard- was even more imposing. Even though the -Valley Forge- was even further away from it, it merely gave the sensors a chance to see even more of it, and the support structures and attached shipyards building other starships stretched away into the distance.  
  
"Sol STC has given us our flight plan, bearing 210 mark 053." The duty com officer said.  
  
"Helm, engage full impulse on designated course and bearing." Ulysses commanded. Even though the Borg STL drive that the -Valley Forge- sports bears only a faint resemblance to impulse drive, for convenience sake, Starfleet officers still use the impulse scale for speed commands. Nearly instantly, the sleek form of the -Wraith- class upgrade slid into motion. One of the advantages of the Borg STL drive was that it allowed nearly full impulse speeds in any direction. Demora put the -Valley Forge- into full impulse flight with the ship flying nearly backwards. It was only after the ship had wound herself up to near 75 PSL that she gracefully swung the ship around and slightly down to orient her front to the axis of flight. That little trick was bound to come in handy when the -Valley Forge- finally engaged the enemy. It took a special Helm officer to handle maneuvering like that, but then the Sulu's had always been amongst the best Helm officers in Starfleet so it came as no surprise that the latest one lived up to the tradition.  
  
"Captain, Sol STC has given us clearance to go to Slipstream." P'tel said.  
  
"Cmdr. Davenport, engage the phase cloak. Lt. Sulu, lay in a course for Regulus System Fleet Gunnery Range and engage slipstream once the ship is fully phase cloaked."  
  
The massive vessel began to slowly phase out of normal space. A soft tone sounded throughout the ship and status lights shifted to the pale purple of phase cloak. Seconds after that the starfield around the -Valley Forge- disappeared as she dove into the swirling blue maelstrom of slipstream. That was one of the advantages of phase cloak and QSS drive, one could go FTL inside Sol System's defensive perimeter instead of waiting for close to a whole day as you left the warp inhibitor field and battle stations behind.  
  
"Cmdr. P'tel, you have the bridge. I shall be in main engineering in case you need me."  
  
"Aye sir." P'tel replied as she strode through the holodisplay to sit down in the command chair. Ulysses entered the port side turbolift. With a barely detectable sensation of acceleration, the turboshaft began to rapidly cross the close to 800-m distance between the bridge and the ships primary engineering compartment. The lift slowed to a stop and its doors opened, allowing Ulysses to exit into the brightly lit engineering space.  
  
"Attention on deck!" a guard standing watch over the turboshaft said as the -Valley Forge's- master entered. Every crewman and officer who could faced Ulysses and braced to attention. A transparent dome set in a pit in the middle of the open floor dominated the room. That dome encased the Quantum Slipstream Core that amply powered the normal operations of the ship. Streamers of blue plasma came off of the external cylindrical wall of the QSS Core to meet at the collector down the middle. While Ulysses wasn't exactly sure of the engineering behind the QSS Core, he did know that it pulled power directly from a level of subspace. In essence, the active QSS Core acted as a tap on that infinite reserve of energy. Seeing the ribbons of yellow edged blue plasma arch from the outside shell to the inner core was eerily beautiful in spite of having the potential of blowing the entire vessel from existence if something went wrong. If the subspace tap ever got loose, nothing, not even sub atomic particles, would be found of the -Valley Forge-. During combat, the surplus Cores could be brought online to better power the warships massive weapons and defensive systems, but they were largely there for redundancy.  
  
"As you were." Ulysses said, jaunting off a salute. Most of his crew had become accustomed to his somewhat informal command style. While most officers loved all the pomp and circumstance that went with their ranks, Ulysses preferred a more low key approach most of the time. "Well Cmdr. Heidberg, how's she look?"  
  
"Everything's in the green sir. After ramping all four cores to maximum rated power with no problems, we have dropped them back to normal levels. Alpha Core is handling the current load exactly to specs. Beta Core is at full powered standby. Cappa and Delta Cores are at low powered standby. Power distribution relays are within operational tolerances. Slipstream nacelles and the phase cloak are operating normally. There is a minor fluctuation with the artificial gravity on deck 10 section 7, and I have a crew working on it as we speak." Clay grinned. "All in all, an excellent beginning to our space trials!"  
  
"Well done!" Ulysses grinned back, then pitched his voice for it to carry across the open engineering space. "We have an excellent ship here and it is largely thanks to your efforts. Well done all of you." Smiles erupted across the faces of the -Valley Forge's- engineering crew. They were mostly young, fresh faced ensigns and crewmen with a smattering of older Imp Drones who were well on their way to becoming wholly human. The oldest ones were only six years chronologically, but given their implanted knowledge, it was enough to make them nearly indistinguishable from their fellow crewmates. Unlike the handful of relatively new Imp Drones who were still emotional infants. Those didn't smile, or if they did, they did so merely because the rest of those around them were smiling, not because they knew enough to be proud of their work. With a final nod to the engineering crew, Ulysses turned and strode back into the turbo lift.  
  
"Bridge." He told the lift. It eased quickly into motion. The car had been underway only a short while before his communicator chirped.  
  
"Vanguard here."  
  
"Captain, we have picked up a distress call. I recommend that you return to the bridge." The lift slowed as she was speaking.  
  
"Already done Exec." Ulysses said as he strode through the opening doors. "Play back the distress call." With a few commands, the bridge speakers opened an ear to hell.  
  
".ayday..is the Merchant...der attack . pirates. Request imm..tance! Rep." The voice said through harsh interference amidst alarms and explosions. It cut out amidst a squeal of static.  
  
"Do we have a fix on their position?" Ulysses demanded as he walked through the holo display to settle into the seat P'tel had just vacated.  
  
"Yes sir. We were just close enough to catch it despite evident jamming. It was so weak and garbled, I doubt any of the local patrols or stations hear it." P'tel said.  
  
"Lay in an intercept course, Red Alert!" Ulysses ordered as he settled into his command chair. Shortly there after, klaxons and crimson light panels snapped on throughout the ship. The -Valley Forge- swung into a tight loop ending up on an almost reciprocal heading from the one it had been on. "Well Guns, it looks like you are going to get a true live fire exercise. Bring up the chameleon skin. Make us a Patrol Frigate. I want these bastards to get a big surprise!"  
  
"Aye sir!" Percy growled his eager agreement. Unlike some officers, Percy had come from Merchant Ship parents, so he had a very strong dislike for pirates in all their guises, be they in gaudy primary colors of true outlaws or the black and silver of Imperial Starfleet.  
  
The external hull of the -Valley Forge- shimmered, then appeared to morph into that of a Norway class Patrol Frigate. The Norway was a very light Frigate, mounting only minimal ablative armor, standard shields, three Mk IX Phaser arrays and a single quantum tube. For her usual task, anti piracy patrols, she was usually sufficient, but she wasn't a true warship and would be chopped to pieces in a normal fleet engagement.  
  
"Coming up on the distress signal's coordinates, slowing to impulse." Demora said. The ships computer, detecting that the chameleon skin was operating in deception mode, masked the ships sensor signature and engaged an appropriate one. It also did its best to mask the slipstream drive, using ECM to generate a false warp engine power down signature. The holo display around Ulysses shifted back to the ebony, star flecked darkness of deep space.  
  
"Targets bearing 501 mark 003. CIC makes them four Atlas class cargo ships vs. three Battle Cruisers and five Destroyers of probable pirate design." Percy said. Pirates used such varying load outs and ships that it was hard to nail down exactly what they were. Although they were indistinguishable from other stars at the present range, the holo display automatically bracketed the area of space and zoomed in so that the nearby vessels became distinguishable as individual ships. Hard as it might be to tell pirates from the rest of the civilian craft on most occasions, these were quite evidently pirate vessels. Their ships were space black with flames along their nacelles and rampant, red eyed skull and crossbones on their prows. They were all painted very similarly, with the individual ship classes also identical to their brothers. That would seem to indicate at least a Squadron level organization rather than a group of singletons.  
  
Pirates usually didn't organize in such large groups, for there was truly no honor among thieves. Most would sell out a fellow pirate at the drop of a hat, for unescorted merchant traffic was hard to find and competition for what little remained of it was fierce. Shipping companies weren't stupid, once they began to lose more and more cargo to piracy, they had resorted to the tried and true method of escorted convoys. It had taken the pirates a while, but now it seemed that they had finally responded to the changes with the equally effective but opposite in goal Wolf Pack tactic. This did not bode well for the already strained Starfleet. With so many ships tied down guarding the border and core worlds against the Grand Alliance, there was less and less warships patrolling the trade routes. And with Pirate Wolf Packs raiding commerce in ever-increasing numbers, things were going to get worse before they got better. Starfleet would have to guard convoys with heavier units to ensure their survival, and it had very few heavy units to spare.  
  
"We have a debris field bearing 114 mark 105. They appear to be the remains of two Defiant and three Nova class Destroyers." Percy said grimly. The pirates must have waited in ambush, letting the convoy get to far away from the subspace corridor terminus to retreat, then bringing their warp field inhibitors online to prevent escape at warp. Against three Battle Cruisers, even pirate ones, the Imperial escorts hadn't stood a chance. They had gotten some licks in though. "Sensors also detect unknown debris cloud along the same bearing. The remains are congruent with three Destroyer class vessels."  
  
"Open a hailing frequency." Ulysses ordered.  
  
"Channel open sir." The com officer said from beyond the holographic veil.  
  
"Pirate vessels, this is the Imperial Warship -Valley Forge-. Stand down and prepare to be boarded."  
  
"Sir, all pirate vessels are vectoring in on us. They have extended the effect of their warp field inhibitors to prevent our retreat. There is no response to our hails."  
  
"Good. The dirty bastards are closing in on what they think is helpless Norway Patrol Frigate. Helm, let's start acting like one. I want these animals in close before we let our mask drop. Have the fighter wings ready to launch at a moments notice." Ulysses smiled wolfishly, and his hazel eyes were merciless. "We gave them the option to surrender and they chose not to take it. They won't get a second chance." A growl of agreement went around the bridge as his ship began to go evasive, running away from the onrushing pirates. But they would soon learn that the sheep they were chasing was a big bad wolf wearing a wool coat. 


	9. Chapter 6

-Chapter Six - Ambush-  
  
-Orion Pirate Vessel Night Demon, Twenty minutes earlier-  
  
"Here they come, just like clockwork!" The -Night Demon's- Captain said, rubbing his hands together in anticipation. He was a bear of a man, with a massive black beard stretching well down the front of his 17th century replica court clothing. The tactical plot showed a series of vessels popping back into normal space as they completed transit through the local subspace corridor terminus. The range was still quite long, the sensor data being fed to the Pirate Wolf Pack was courtesy of a stealthed surveillance probe. The probe's sensors showed the convoy reform, then engage warp drive to cross the virtually useless system. Its star was a tiny red dwarf that held no planets worth mentioning. Its sole use was as a bridge connecting two secondary trunks of the subspace corridor network. Ships exited the network on one side, crossed the intervening space at warp, then reentered the network on the other side. It was this fact that made it a prime ambush spot for Pirates. The probe showed the pirates that Imperial warships escorted their quarry. This was only to be expected, for it was either independents or the extremely stupid that sent out cargo ships unescorted in the fringe of core Imperial space.  
  
Patrols were less frequent out here and only rarely used ships larger than a light cruiser. This had been even more pronounced since the losses incurred first in the Imperial/Borg war and to a lesser extent in the very recent Imperial/Grand Alliance conflict. Patrol units had been siphoned off to thicken sector defense fleets, which explained why piracy had risen in frequency, but only partly. Another part was that the Orion Cartel was reembracing its pirate heritage with a vengeance. That was all well and good for -Night Demon's- captain, for he found the normal operations of the modern Orion Cartel dull. Protection rackets, drugs, weapons, all manner of organized crime was quite frankly boring when compared to the thrill of out and out piracy. Of course, past Orion Dons hadn't felt that way, instead going towards more 'respectable' criminal pursuits. That had begun to change once Don O'tole got into power, and now that the Terran Empire was caught without enough ships to adequately patrol its space, Pirate activity was at an all time high.  
  
Which was why the -Night Demon- was out here with two of her sister ships and eight Destroyers. They should prove more than adequate to take out both the cargo ships and their escort. And while most pirates were after cargo, the -Night Demon- and her pack mates weren't. A little fun with the cargo ships crews might be a given, but orders were to leave no witnesses and only debris in their wake, and the -Night Demon- captain's eyes glowed at the destruction and mayhem he was about to unleash. He hadn't had this much fun in a long time.  
  
"The convoy is coming up on the intercept coordinates." The tactical officer said.  
  
"Engage the warp field inhibitor when they do. Order the Pack to drop cloak and open fire on their escorts as soon as they drop to impulse."  
  
"As you command."  
  
-ISS Repulse, Nova class Destroyer, On convoy escort duty-  
  
One minute the convoy was executing a standard transit across the system, the next all hell broke loose.  
  
"Sir, we are dropping out of warp! The whole convoy is dropping out of warp!!"  
  
"Pirates!" The -Repulse's- Captain cursed under his breath. He had been escorting convoys for a few years now and he knew just how deadly the pirates were becoming. "Red Alert! All hands to battle stations!" He shouted.  
  
"Weapons and shields coming online sir." Klaxons began to wail throughout the ships in the convoy as they hurried to prepare for what was to come.  
  
The rainbow smears of stars shrank and coalesced into fiery pinpoints as the convoy was dragged back to Impulse by the effects of a warp field inhibitor. A split second after they dropped out of warp, the escort destroyers were rocked by fire. Slipping out of cloak simultaneously with exacting, practiced precision, the Pirate vessels opened fire even before they were completely decloaked. Shields slammed up, putting their protective conformal envelope around the Pirate raiders. ECM began to thrash tactical sensor systems, but at the knife fighting ranges of the ambush it wasn't of much use. At such close range, no military sensor suite would be degraded enough to make much of a difference.  
  
Lightspeed death spat from the Pirates phaser and disruptor emitters, and unlike their enemy, their tactical departments had been plotting their attack vectors since the convoy had entered the system. The Imperial CIC, despite being alert for just such an occurrence, didn't have that luxury. They had mere seconds to plot and target the ambushes before it was to late. For two of them, it was.  
  
The Nova class warships Indomitable and Hermes were blotted out of existence in seconds as the combined firepower of three Battlecruisers and eight destroyers burnt away their shields and armor before finding their internal AM storage tanks.  
  
"Engage evasive maneuvers, plan Delta Three! Target their lead Destroyer and return fire!" The Captain knew his command and those of his fellows was going to die, it was merely a matter of time with the current odds. But if he could delay the pirates long enough, some of the currently scattering merchant ships might escape. Not that the Pirates didn't have more than enough ships to run down all four of his charges. But if there were a chance that even one of them could break away and get the word of what happened here out, perhaps Starfleet would begin to take the Pirate threat more seriously.  
  
The lone remaining Nova and its two Defiant class escorts spun through their wild evasion patterns, dodging most of the fire against them. The two Defiants stayed glued to the -Repulse's- flanks as they went through the evasion pattern, in the end lining up on one of the pirate Destroyers. PPC bolts spat out like the wrath of God as all three Imperial Destroyers opened fire as one. 13 streams met on the foreword section of Pirate, quickly burning through its front shields. They flared out of existence and the amber/yellow bolts began to chew through the ships outer hull. Within a second, the ship died in a boil of light. But the Imperials weren't content with its death, and had already shifted their fire to its nearest squadron mate. A stream of Phaser Beams and Quantum Torpedoes, steady as a metronome, leapt from the three Imperials. It targeted a third pirate Destroyer as the trio lined up their PPC's on their second target. The two pirates went within seconds of each other in flares of AM death. But they weren't alone, for the three Battlecruisers finally achieved the inevitable.  
  
Their emerald green disruptor bolts and crimson/orange phaser beams found first one and then the other Defiant, cutting the vessels into white hot pieces of debris. Of all the escorts, the -Repulse- seemed to lead a charmed existence, escaping the destruction of her consorts.  
  
A mighty cheer went up from the -Repulse's- crew at the destruction of two more pirate Destroyers only to be cut savagely off when the Defiants flared white on either side. Damn all Pirates to Hell, the -Repulse's- Captain thought. I had just gotten those crews up to a standard I could live with. Now they are all gone, and us soon to follow.  
  
"Target Tango Five, prepare max impulse ram! All weapons fire as you bear!" the Captain snarled, knowing it would not be enough. Yet he would be damned if he went out without a fight, his charges and the crews of his squadron mates deserved that much at least. The -Repulse- twitched onto her new course in response to the command, jinking and twisting around her base trajectory to avoid as much enemy fire as possible. Her opponent, however speedy, was no where near as maneuverable as a new Imperial Destroyer. The -Repulse's- maneuvers allowed nearly all of her weapons to bear on her target. Strike after strike slammed into the Pirate Destroyer's shields, causing them to sparkle with dissipated and absorbed energy, paring them away till they were nearly gone.  
  
Then the -Repulse's- charmed existence ended as nearly a full barrage from two of the Pirate Battlecruisers slammed into her ventral shields, punching through them like they weren't even there. Armor and hull plateing ruptured and both her starboard nacelle and close to a third of her secondary hull were torn away. They spiraled away aft from their mother ship, bleeding debris and plasma. Her main AM tank ruptured, creating a violent explosion along the Nova's spine. But her reinforced armor between the rest of the ship and the tank functioned as designed, shunting nearly the entire explosion into space instead of letting it into the ship. Main power failed and backup generators came online, giving as much power as they could to the dying -Repulse's- weapons. Her running lights died with her warp core and her remaining nacelle dimmed. But her Quantums, PPC's and phaser arrays volleyed defiance back at her enemies, continuing to hurt her enemies till the bitter end.  
  
But it was too little too late for the stricken Imperial, and the Pirates swooped in for the kill. An avalanche of crisscrossing phasers and disruptors poured into her, splintering what was left of her hull into white-hot molten fragments. Most were no bigger than a human hand and a good portion of the ship was vaporized. Destroyers had no business going up against Battlecruisers, even pirate ones. And in the end, the -Repulse- and her squadron mates sacrifices were in vain, for the scattering merchant vessels had not escaped the warp inhibitor's field. The Pirates split up, going after all four merchants at once. Their weapons cut through their shields with ease, hitting their engines to prevent the ships escape. Then they were tractored back together so that the pirate crews could have a little fun before they got rid of all the loose ends.  
  
-The Night Demon, Main Bridge-  
  
"This is Captain Gomorra to boarding party, have you secured the crews yet?" the -Night Demon's- master said over the com channel.  
  
"Yes Captain, all is ready for your boarding." The young human in charge of the boarding parties replied.  
  
"Excellent, I shall be over directly!" He flipped one toggle on his command chair off, then activated another. "Gomorra to transporter room, beam me over to the lead merchie. I have some. inspecting to do!" The old Pirate said with a bawdy laugh. An answering one came over the com speaker, for the transporter chief knew full well what was going to be inspected. He just hoped that his crewmates would bring over a few decent ones for those who had to remain onboard. The last few raids hadn't netted very many of those, at least none that were quite up to the standards the transporter chief liked.  
  
Gomorra felt the familiar yet still terrifying tingle of the transporter beam. The -Night Demon's- bridge faded to white, then was replaced with the main bridge of an Atlas class cargo ship. While still larger than the Imperials Sovereign class, it was like most merchantmen in that it carried only minimal crew accommodations. The bridge crew were lined up to one side, their legs and ankles bound with good old fashioned metal hand cuffs. Gomorra picked out a particularly striking red head.  
  
"Bring her." He commanded as he pointed to the young lady. A fresh cry went up from the rest of the bridge crew. Most merchant ships were either run by mostly family members or else were close enough to be family. They knew full well what was about to happen. One of the prisoners bellowed incoherently as he got clumsily up and charged Gomorra. He had recently acquired a nasty purple shiner that was swelling his left eye closed and recently lost most of his front teeth to a disruptor rifle butt. Just the same, he was moving with startling speed for someone in his condition. A green disruptor bolt spat from one of the Pirates guarding the prisoners. It caught him in the back, and he flopped down wordlessly to the deck with a rather large, smoking hole in his chest. The young redhead sobbed anew, writhing in her captors grasp as she was continued to be led after Gomorra to the crews quarters aft on the same deck as the bridge. Once he was inside the Captain's Quarters, the rest of the pirates began to do similar things with whomever took their fancy. For those merchantmen left behind, the cries and screams of their crewmates and family members echoing up the hall to the bridge was to much to bear. Some wept, some cursed the Pirates still guarding them. The ones that cursed were merely butt stroked by the Pirates. While the guards might not get to go first, they would get to go second, which was almost as good. All in all, it was a great day as far as the Pirates were concerned. They got some loot, spilt some blood, score some tail. it was a good time to be a Pirate. Suddenly, a voice came over the com interrupting their depravity.  
  
"This is Executive Officer Van Leeks to all boarding parties, we have another Imperial ship entering the system. They appear to be a Norway class Heavy Patrol Frigate. Captain, what are your orders."  
  
Gomorra looked up at the roof towards where his command hung in space, silently cursing the Imperial Frigate for its timing. Getting off of the now silently weeping naked young woman, he looked at the guards holding her as he pulled his pants back up and buckled his oversized, gaudy belt.  
  
"If anyone of you even thinks of touching her till I have returned and finished, you will be shot." He then activated his communicator. "Gomorra to -Night Demon-, beam me back and take back any necessary personnel to execute the intercept. We will deal with this interruption quickly, then resume our looting and plundering."  
  
The necessary Pirates were returned to their vessels, leaving more than enough behind to keep order. Then the entire Pack swarmed out from around the helpless mercies and swung towards the Norway. With their boosted acceleration and top speeds, they rapidly gained on the still closing Norway. Once the Imperial Patrol craft finally realized just what it was up against, it turned about and began to retreat from the Pirates charging towards it. But it was only a Patrol vessel, not mounting military impulse drives that might have allowed it to outrun the Pirates. It mounted standard civilian impulse engines to save credits, and as such couldn't keep out of weapons range for much longer. The Norway seemed to know this, for it began jinking in complex evasion patterns in a vain attempt to escape.  
  
"Is her coms jammed?!" Gomorra demanded to his tactical officer.  
  
"Yes Captain. There is no way she can get a message out."  
  
"She had better be, or it will be your head that rolls first if Imperial reinforcements enter the system." The officer's Adam's apple bobbed as he gulped, but he made no move to enter more commands into his panel. Must be telling the truth then Gomorra thought.  
  
"Sir, something is not quite right with this Norway." The ships sensor operator said.  
  
"Well spit it out, what isn't quite right." Gomorra said irritably. He was still mad about having his fun so rudely interrupted, and it was evident in his every word.  
  
"Its only every once and a while, and if it wasn't for our recently upgraded sensors, I doubt I would even detect it, but sometimes glimpse a power spike that shouldn't be there. Almost as if the ship was generating a hell of a lot more power than she should be and was trying to mask the fact with her ECM." Gomorra tilted his head slightly to the side and got a thoughtful expression on his face. Then his eyes narrowed and a scowl creased his face.  
  
"Execute a deep scan of the Norway! NOW! And if you are causing me to jump at shadows, I shall have you killed. Very slowly." Gomorra looked back towards the fleeing Norway with an appraising, slightly wary eye as he sipped a crystal goblet of red wine. 


	10. Chapter 7

-Chapter Seven - A Righteous Fire-  
  
-ISS Valley Forge, Main Bridge, That same time-  
  
Even though a -Norway- was as long as most Cruisers, she was classed as a Frigate because of a combination of factors. First, most of her length was taken up in her sail like nacelle pylons. Second, most of her remaining hull was filled with the plethora of small craft that patrol vessels needed to ferry boarding teams to uncooperative vessels with active transport inhibitors. Third, she had an outsized marine compliment to utilize in these boarding actions, further putting a crimp on internal space. Finally, she only utilized light armament, engines and defenses. Norways were all but exclusively utilized in patrol situations, this was considered acceptable. It was also why despite her fairly impressive size, she was truly a Frigate in both form and function. A normal -Norway- would have been hard pressed to deal with even one of the Pirate Destroyers, let alone the five closing on her plus the three Battlecruisers following them. If the Pirates had been closing on a normal -Norway-, it would have been no contest. As the reality now stood, it was still no contest. It merely had the two parties reversed as to which role they were to play.  
  
"Sir, CIC confirms that the Pirates are outfitted with military grade sensors and high mark phaser arrays." P'tel said. "While their ships are heavily armed for their size, their defenses are rather weak as a result. Since they are still using standard warp cores, they lack the surplus power to power both powerful weapons systems and strong shields. But the most intriguing part. Their ships are also faster than is the norm. Sensors say that they are hitting 85 PSL."  
  
Ulysses scowled over steepled fingers as he stared at the pirates wrapping around his command so that they could attack it from all sides. They were using competent tactics, something normal Pirates rarely exhibited. And they were either putting excessive strain and risk of failure on their internal compensator or something else. And it was the something else that worried him. He found it hard to believe that mere pirates could succeed in enhancing the upper limit of internal compensators when the rest of the known galaxy including the Terran Empire hadn't been able to. Yet the seeming leisure that they exhibited when flying at unsafe speeds after a target that couldn't outrun them to begin with caused Ulysses brain to itch. There was just no reason to justify the risk unless it wasn't a risk at all.  
  
"Guns, I want to take their Battlecruisers as much intact as possible. I think that they have a better internal compensator than any known model and I want a look at it. You may dispose of their destroyers as planned. And just so that they can't self destruct, beam over some KO gas once their shields and transporter inhibitors drop."  
  
"Aye sir." Cmdr Davenport said. "They are entering extreme weapons range sir."  
  
"Hold your course. I want them closer."  
  
The ships began to grow large on the holo display. Finally they opened fire with their first volley.  
  
"Torpedo separation! Incoming Quantum Torpedoes from all enemy vessels."  
  
"That volume of fire should be enough to slow the -Norway- we are pretending to be, so make sure the computer remembers to fake that part." The substantial torpedo volley roared in on the poor little -Norway-, flaying its shields and scorching its lightly armored hull. The ship slowed as the computer decided that her impulse engines had been hit.  
  
"Fore shields down 2%. Regenerating back to full strength now. Enemy is now entering energy range."  
  
"Launch the fighters. Have them pretend to be debris jettisoned by the attack."  
  
-Valley Forge, Flight Deck-  
  
The 50 fighters spat from their catapults at small fractions of their normal speed to fall away from their mother ship in carefully planned, seemingly random vectors. With their ECM suites masking their powered down systems and their holo chameleon skins actually making them look like large chunks of debris, they were indistinguishable as threats to the Pirate's sensors.  
  
The Cobras had been outfitted for close assault, swapping their usual standoff load out of quantums for external PPC gun packs. Now armed with 6 PPCs instead of their usual two, they could deal a massive amount of damage before they had to break off and let their capacitors recharge. The drawback was that they usually had to close suicidaly close to their targets in order to fire. But since they were hiding in preparation for an ambush, the enemy was obliging them and closing on their position totally unawares of the deadly piranha seeded into their path.  
  
-Night Demon, Main Bridge-  
  
"Sensors nearing full charge for a deep scan of the -Norway- sir." The sensor tech said.  
  
"Energy weapons range sir. Capacitors are nearly fully charged." The tactical officer added.  
  
-Valley Forge, Main Bridge-  
  
"Energy spike, looks like they are preparing to fire energy weapons." Percy said.  
  
"That's close enough Guns. Open fire." The stars around Ulysses command disappeared momentarily from view as nearly every weapons system on the ship vomited death.  
  
-Night Demon, Main Bridge-  
  
The glass of red wine that Gomorra had been nursing slipped from his hand, dropping soundlessly to the deck where it shattered into a million pieces of knife edged crystal. The quiet tinkling sound was the only thing heard on the bridge as everyone froze in mind numbing disbelief. No one seemed to even breathe as the meek, dying vessel in front of them sprouted needle sharp teeth none of them had even suspected it possessed. For a brief instant, the yellow/orange columns of its phaser beams and blue white orbs of its quantum torpedoes silhouetted the unmistakable outline of a modern Imperial Super Dreadnought of the Line. Every Pirate on the -Night Demon's- bridge, in the scant second it took for the hidden Wraith to unleash its deadly weaponry, knew that they were living on borrowed time. They would be dead before they could do anything to extricate themselves from the situation, for even with their current numerical advantage over the lone Imperial SD, they couldn't hope to do more than scratch her shields before each and every one of them was burned from space.  
  
-Valley Forge, Main Bridge-  
  
The -Valley Forge- had been flying backwards through space at 75 PSL, keeping her heavier foreword weapons arc towards the bulk of the enemy. But she looked like a fleeing -Norway- to the pursuing pirates thanks to her chameleon holo stealth system. The first clue they had that she was something more than that was when her weapons fire temporarily highlighted her true hull form. Her powerful phaser arrays and quantum launchers stabbed out at her targeted destroyers, rapidly burning them from space even as her fighter wings came alive and did the same. The massed beams of Type XV phasers didn't take long to punch through the light shields Pirate Destroyers mounted. Given that the pirates didn't have the energy to spare to shunt it into powerful shields, going instead for powerful weapons, they never stood a chance. Each exploded violently as gigatons of firepower washed over them like a cleansing tide.  
  
The -Valley Forge's- ten wings of fighters shifted their ECM from deception mode to track breaking and brought their shields and weapons fully online. In the blink of an eye they shed their masks and snapped to full impulse speed. Racing back towards their two Destroyer class targets at 81 PSL the length of separation dropped with insane rapidity for the range was already short and their targets were on near reciprocal vectors pulling 85 PSL. Targeting systems locked on to the still pinprick sized balls of light that were two Pirate Destroyers. 300 individual streams of Pulse Phaser fire erupted from the fighter wings to rain lightspeed death down on the helpless Pirates. The small starships were shaken violently as the PPC bolts rapidly ate away their shields then chewed through their naked hulls. That much fire power would have overwhelmed a cruisers defenses, so the end result was never in doubt. The pirates managed to lock up and fire on seven of the fighters, turning them to energetic plasma and scattering their component atoms across space, yet every Pirate Destroyer joined them shortly thereafter. The surviving fighters broke off, racing away from the dumbstruck Battlecruisers to both allow their PPC capacitors to recharge and to gain maneuver room in case they had to attack the surviving pirates. Not that they would be required to do so, for a refit Wraith class Super Dreadnought could have squashed the entire enemy formation in its first volley had it so desired.  
  
"Execute the next phase as planned." Ulysses said over his steepled hands in a conversational voice, yet his eyes were ice cold pits betraying his near instinctual hatred for all things Pirate. One didn't grow up on a Merchant ship without developing that, both for the criminal and the institutional versions of Pirates.  
  
The -Valley Forge- micro jumped nearly straight up to get the appropriate angle of attack to take out the Battlecruisers warp cores before the Pirates could react. It was a particularly excellent piece of maneuvering considering both parties were moving at a significant portion of lightspeed and that a rather small error in calculations and timing would throw off the -Valley Forge's- vector and emergence locus by a fair (in a tactical engagement operation) margin. Snapping back into normal space high above the arrowhead formation of still dumbstruck Pirate Battlecruisers, the -Valley Forge- opened up with her triple foreword Phaser Lances, sending three columns of naked energy into the distant Pirates with pinpoint precision. They unleashed their fury upon first shields and then hulls, wreathing the Pirates in energy and vaporized alloy. The Lances were set for narrow focus, punching straight through their target's hulls yet doing little damage to the rest of the ship. Despite the fact that every possible precaution was taken, targeting a ships warp core is often a messy business. It was all to easy for a complete failure of the ships AM storage tanks to occur once the its warp core was violently turned into plasma. That is what happened to one of the Pirates. The Battlecruiser exploded into a violent starburst of multi ton molten fragments and an eye tearingly bright boil of light. The remaining two Battlecruisers computers managed to kill the AM flow to the now absent warp core before they joined their companion in oblivion. Most of their engineering crews were dead or dying in the hard vacuum of space because the thermal bloom, kinetic shock and massive power disruption caused by the Phaser Lance attack on their warp cores had prevented the emergency forcefields from coming on like they should.  
  
With their warp cores destroyed leaving neat, molten edged cylindrical holes punched straight through their hulls the two Pirate's shields flared out along with their transporter inhibitors. With both of those systems out of commission, the -Valley Forge- was able to beam over KO bombs. On the holo screen the dark, menacing looking shapes of the Pirate Battlecruisers spun slowly as all helm control failed. The only part of them that remained lighted was the molten edges of hull where Phaser Lance beams had struck them. The hidden half of Ulysses urged him to beam over a Neuro Toxin, but he surprised the dark impulse. Excessive force against a helpless opponent wasn't something that was taught by the Followers of Spock. It was frowned upon because that was exactly what the Empire had done far to often.  
  
-Night Demon, Main Bridge-  
  
All was lost and Gomorra knew it. His hand was reaching for the self- destruct button on a sealed panel in the side of his command chair when he heard the whine of a transporter. A split second later there was a bright flash that was accompanied by a sudden loss in all voluntary muscle control. Every being on the bridge dropped to the deck like a marionette whose strings had been cut. Gomorra's hand fell, unable to cross the last few mm to the self-destruct switch. With the entire bridge crew incapacitated by the initial attack, the small KO bomb began to emit a gaseous sleeping agent. Within seconds the entire bridge crew was unconscious. Similar bombs had been transported to every section on the Pirate ships, incapacitating every member of the crew. One would have had to be in power armor or at least light riot gear to remain active, but none of the pirates were, expecting an easy victory over an unlucky Imperial -Norway-.  
  
-Valley Forge -  
  
"Everyone on the Pirate ships are unconscious sir." Percy reported to Ulysses with a smirk on his face.  
  
"Well done. Commence strike team beam over."  
  
In the outsized transporter rooms scattered about the -Valley Forge-, fully armed, power armored marines dematerialized as the transporter beams grabbed them. They rematerialized at various key points throughout the pirate vessels. After a quick but thorough scan of their area, they moved out to scour the rest of the ship. At the same time, the Pirates were being beamed off the ship and into the -Valley Forge's- brig. A plethora of small arms and bladed weapons were removed from the unconscious Pirates before they were rematerialized inside their holding cells. It was only after the ship was cleansed from all pirate presence that the engineering teams were allowed over to search for the mysterious internal compensator that allowed for unheard of starship velocities.  
  
Near what was left of engineering, they found it.  
  
"Lt., I think we have a winner here." One of the engineering techs said.  
  
"What is it?"  
  
"This little beauty here sir." The tech told his detail's commanding officer as he pointed to a slightly out of place looking piece of equipment. "It doesn't match the rest of the ship construction wise. Its base alloys are all wrong, to say nothing of the style. And it is mounted to a power converter, indicating that it is set up for a different power distribution system than standard Imperial EPS relays."  
  
"Good, detach it. We'll take it back with us for further study." The Lt. thought this is sure to get me in good with Cmdr Heidberg, maybe even the Captain himself.  
  
"Sir, I would recommend that we wait till the security boys have a chance to scan it thoroughly."  
  
"I gave you an order crewman, and I expect it to be obeyed."  
  
"Sir, the thing might be boobyt."  
  
"That's it. You are on report for insubordination." And with that the Lt. reached down and pulled out the three glowing blue cables that attached the machine to the deck. 


	11. Chapter 8

-Chapter Eight - Justice-  
  
-Night Demon-  
  
"There, you see?!" The Lt. said irritatedly to the still unconvinced crewman. Detaching the clasps that held the internal dampener to the deck, the Lt. continued to speak. "Grab the other end and lets get this device to the middle of the room for transport. There is too much interference here from all these power leads and plasma conduits to ensure precise transporter locks. If this is what I think it is, the Captain wants it in mint condition. A miniscule error in the transport might render this so much useless junk." The crewman approached the alien internal damper with a wary dread, yet nothing had happened when it was detached from its place on the deck so he seemed to have no choice.  
  
They were about half way across the room to their destination, carrying the bulky yet not terribly heavy for its size internal dampener before it began to whine softly. The crewman cast an scared 'I told you so' glare at the Lt. The Lt. frowned as he whipped out his tricorder and began to scan the internal damper. After a few seconds of scanning in which the whine rose in pitch and volume the Lieutenant's face went white.  
  
"Aww hell." He cursed under his breath, then slapped his communicator. "Lt. Ypres to the -Valley Forge-. I have an internal dampener that is set to overload. I request that it be immediately beamed out to deep space."  
  
"Affirmative Lt. Beaming the internal dampener to space now." The com officer said. Seconds later, just as the machine was reaching its highest pitch and volume yet the transporter beam caught it. It rematerialized outside the pirate ship only to explode within moments. It was a mere fire cracker when compared to even a hand phaser blast, but it was more than sufficient to vaporize the internal components of the damper, leaving only the scorched external shell relatively intact. With it's self immolation went any chance of discovering the secrets the new compensators held. The one in the other surviving Pirate ship had been thoroughly melted by a power surge caused when the warp core was 'removed', while the rest were reduced to their component atoms and energy when their ships were cut down by the -Forge's- weapons fire.  
  
-Valley Forge, Main Bridge-  
  
Ulysses winced as the internal dampener flared on the holo display, its secondary energy plant overloading and ruining its internal components. That would have been a useful bit of tech to recover, no doubt about it. But the main thing was that a pack of highly organized pirates had been wiped out. Now it was just time to remove the rest of them.  
  
"Helm, plot an intercept course to the merchies. Guns, Have assault teams standing by in case the remaining pirates prove uncooperative. And you might as well drop the deception while you are at it."  
  
"Aye Sir." Sulu and Davenport chorused from their stations beyond the holographic veil of space that surrounded Ulysses command station. The 360 degree, three dimensional representation of the surrounding space swung wildly as the -Valley Forge- swept gracefully up and around to line up on a course back to the merchant ships.  
  
"Open a channel to the cargo ships."  
  
"Channel open Captain."  
  
"This is Captain Ulysses Vanguard of the Imperial Star Ship -Valley Forge-. As you have already no doubt seen we have eliminated your fellows. Surrender now ad we shall be as lenient as possible with you. Resist and you shall be dispatched like your fellows. The choice is yours but I suggest that you don't delay long. You have 30 seconds to comply or I shall burn you from space."  
  
"Incoming signal from the merchies Sir."  
  
"Put it up." A small window blossomed on the holo display next to the surviving merchant ships. Ulysses rotated his chair to view the incoming com head on. A heavily tattooed and scarred face appeared in the window.  
  
"I have a counter proposal. Let us go or we will kill every man woman and child on these vessels." The middle aged pirate said with a sneer, but Ulysses could see the fear in his eyes. The civilians operating the cargo ships were Imperial citizens. All Starfleet officers swore to defend both the Terran Empire and its citizens from every enemy. Time to put on your poker face Ulysses old boy he thought to himself.  
  
"You misunderstand. You either surrender now, or I vaporize the cargo ships in which you now sit. The civilians on those ships matter nothing to me. You have five seconds." Most Starfleet officers didn't give two hoots about alien species, but citizens of the Empire were a different matter entirely. Nearly every officer in service would move heaven and earth to keep them safe. It had been their charge since Starfleet's inception, and it was something most officers took very seriously. Ulysses himself felt that it was his duty to protect those unable to protect themselves, but he needed to convince the Pirate otherwise. On the com screen, the framed 3-D bust of the pirate shifted expression. His eyes bulged a little and his tattoos stood out as his skin took on a grayish hue. He had counted on Ulysses being willing to bargain for the merchant crew's lives.  
  
"Wait, we surrender! WE SURRENDER!" the Pirate wailed. Like most of his kind, he was a bully at heart. When faced with continuing being a bully and death or giving up and living, they usually chose life.  
  
"Very good." Ulysses said as he closed the channel. "Guns, beam over the assault teams and secure the pirates. I'm paying a visit to the brig. Com me once the cargo ships are under our control. Cmdr P'tel, you have the con."  
  
"Aye Sir."  
  
-Valley Forge, Brig-  
  
The triple, individually locked blast doors that barred the lone passage way into the brig slid apart as Ulysses entered his access code three times. The burly security officer in charge of the brig greeted him once he passed the final door.  
  
"Lt. Cmdr., where is the leader of this rabble?"  
  
"Cell 32 Sir."  
  
"Bring him here."  
  
"Aye Sir." The Lt. Cmdr. Pointed to two guards in power armor. They saluted sharply then trotted to the appropriate cell. After punching in the appropriate code, the force field dropped and the transparent, nearly indestructible door rolled into its recess in the floor and ceiling. The guards entered the cell and dragged out an imposing man dressed in ancient Earth medieval court style clothing. He sported an impressive beard that nearly hid a cocky smile behind its solid mass of hair. Like all of the prisoners, he was shackled wrist and ankle with braided monofilament cables. They were near impossible to cut unless one had a very high powered phaser or a military grade molecular edged blade and time. As the guards dragged him towards the Captain, Ulysses com badge chirped.  
  
"Ulysses here." He said after he activated it.  
  
"The Pirates on the Cargo Ships have been subdued Captain. All weapons have been confiscated and the remaining pirates are awaiting transport back to the brig."  
  
"Very good. Keep them there for now, I shall transport over shortly."  
  
"Understood Sir."  
  
"Bring him." Ulysses said, then turned around and walked through the triple doors.  
  
-Imperial Cargo Ship Manifest Destiny, Main Bridge-  
  
Ulysses, Gomorra and the two power armored security guards materialized on the bridge of the lead cargo ship. The -Valley Forge's- medical personnel were going over the lightly wounded of merchant crew. Those more seriously injured had already been transported to sickbay onboard the ship. Nearly all of the young and middle aged men had been shot dead, their bodies now arrayed in a neat row along one bulkhead. Ulysses surveyed the survivors. Nearly all were in shock, that much was evident from their faces. Others were silently weeping, either from the joy of being rescued or from the horrors they had been forced to endure. Ulysses looked over the rooms, noting that teams were recording in one of them. A young girl, now dead, had been cut with a revolting morbid artistry. The bloody knife lay at her side, along with a shackled and manacled pirate who's arms were drenched in blood up to the wrists.. Ulysses stomach did a flip-flop, yet his steel like expression never wavered.  
  
In the next room was a young woman clothed in a Starfleet utility jumpsuit. Her original clothing lay in cut tatters on the floor. Upon seeing Gomorra behind Ulysses, the young woman fairly leapt towards him with a feral snarl. The marine and medic tending to her managed to grab her as she tried to run past them. They held her back as gently as they could till the medic could administer a sedative. The girl crumpled to the floor, still staring a glare that could have melted the bulkheads at Gomorra.  
  
"That is the beast that raped me! I demand that you give me." The girl's eyes blinked shut, then snapped open again. ".give me justice." Then the sedative took hold and the girl went under.  
  
"I feel a very strong urge to kill you where you stand." Ulysses said, swinging around to pin his venom filled glare on Gomorra. How any species could spawn such creatures as these pirates was beyond Ulysses. They killed, raped and pillaged the spacelanes without regard for anything.  
  
The Pirate commander didn't flinch under Ulysses withering stare, in fact his smirk became a tooth filled grin. "But you can't do that now can you. Under Imperial Law my crews and I must be returned to the nearest starbase so that we can stand trial. Most unfortunate that you can't act on your desires isn't it Captain?" Gomorra said with a snicker, then he spit into Ulysses face and laughed out loud. Many of his captive pirate underlings laughed along with him. "You can't touch me, and trust me on this, we can drag out the proceedings for a long, long time."  
  
Ulysses reached up and slowly wiped the spittle from his cheek with his exoskeleton-encased hand. Then he grinned back at the smug pirate faintly. The dark part of him snarled gleefully as its cage door opened. It was still chained, but it was being given freedom it seldom enjoyed. "You are right. I can't do a blasted thing to you." Ulysses paused and the Pirate's grin got even bigger. Then Ulysses continued. "Or rather I should say I COULDN'T do a blasted thing to you under the OLD laws." Gomorra's happy, satisfied grin disappeared with stunning rapidity.  
  
"Old laws?!" Gomorra said through narrowed eyes  
  
"Yes. Quite recently changed by the Emperor himself. You have apparently not yet heard of them so I shall enlighten you. As per His Imperial Majesties General Edict 12, Section A, all individuals found supporting the actions of, benefiting from or engaging in organized criminal activity are to be executed at the earliest possible opportunity." Ulysses mild grin erupted into a predatory smile. "To bad we caught you both benefiting and engaging in organized criminal activity. Either one is a death sentence. So you see, I can indeed kill you where you stand, and I can do so quite legally. But even if it was still illegal for execution without trial, I am not certain I would not have done so. Removing an animal like you from the galaxy would be well worth the ensuing court-martial." And with that Ulysses pulled his phaser from its holster. A look of stark fear mingled with shock crossed Gomorra's face. The demon in Ulysses soul reveled in the fear and terror, urging Ulysses farther. Ulysses pressed the activation button and an orange beam spat out from the emitter housing. Gomorra dissolved into nothingness with a hideous scream as the beam's effect consumed him. An Imperial Type 2 Hand Phaser could be set to administer a slow, painful disintegration, and that was exactly what Ulysses had set his to accomplish before he had even left the -Forge-. Ulysses cold, wolfish eyes flared brightly as his dark half reveled in the killing, and for once Ulysses didn't care. Gomorra and his ilk were worse than animals, and they deserved the fate they brought upon themselves.  
  
The Pirates clumped along one wall, bound and under guard, stared in disbelief. "Bu.But you said that you would spare us!" the one who had conversed on the com screen with Ulysses stammered.  
  
"No I didn't." Ulysses snarled at him. "I said I would be as lenient as possible, which fortunately for the galaxy means that I can kill you after I have gathered evidence that you are actually pirates." Ulysses smacked his com badge. "Ulysses to transporter room. You may execute General Edict 12 at your leisure."  
  
"Aye Sir!" came the eager response from the other end of the com. The Pirate's screams of fear and protest died away as the transporter grabbed them. Both they and their brethren being held in the -Valley Forge's- brig rematerialized in space to die slowly and painfully in frozen vacuum of deep space.  
  
The fierce growl of approval that emanated from the surviving merchie crewmembers. 'Thank you sir!' and 'Thank you!' sprang from the crowd as they lurched foreword to embrace their savior and the one who had dispensed justice on their behalf. Ulysses gaze fell upon them, causing many to come up short. Many shrank back in newfound fear from what they saw in Ulysses eyes. Far to many of them had seen similar looks in the Pirates. They could see that part of him relished the killing, much like some of the pirates had. It frightened them almost more than seeing it in the Pirates, for this was a Starfleet officer, sworn to defend them.  
  
Like a dog shaking water off of its fur, Ulysses brought his dark side back under firm control, reeling it back into its cage and locking it there.  
  
"Any further assistance you require shall be given, merely ask the medics and marines. We are going to proceed back to Sector One and will bring you and your disabled ships along with us. You can find replacement crew and repair your ships there. On behalf of Starfleet and the Empire, I apologize for allowing what you have endured to happen." Ulysses tapped his com badge. "Vanguard to -Valley Forge-, one to beam up." 


	12. Chapter 9

-Chapter Nine - Reunions-  
  
-Valley Forge, Sector One-  
  
Ulysses scowled over his hands as he sat in his command chair. He felt a nearly overwhelming urge to have a shower, but resisted it. It was a benefit to the galaxy as a whole that the pirates had been swiftly and permanently dealt with. Yet for all their subhuman impulses that they were allowed to engage in, their pursuit had been almost perfect. Ulysses himself would have left a couple of his destroyers to guard the captured merchies, but he couldn't fault their precise approach formation. Their envelopment maneuver was right out of the Starfleet handbook and was as exacting as any Academy professor demanded. That spoke of bad things, for Pirate activity was on a meteoric rise since nearly the beginning of the Imperial/GA conflict.  
  
And the fragmentary reports coming in from across the Empire were painting a picture of a resurgent pirate threat that was both smart and well equipped. They had to be getting their equipment from some source, but where? As much as he wanted to see the violent, murderous and oftentimes corrupt Terran Empire government dead and buried, Ulysses knew that it was fortunate he and the rest of Starfleet had been given a free hand in dealing with pirates by the Emperor. Though Ulysses might wish the man dead for extremely personal reasons, he had to grudgingly admit that the Emperor's plans so far had genuine benefits. Many of the Councilors that had made up the old government had been complacent in regards to organized crime. Ulysses suspected that many had been more than complacent, either bought off or otherwise in the pocket of organized crime. Piracy had been bad enough even then, but it was a genuine threat now. The few thousand merchant ships that had disappeared annually under the old regime had been bad enough. But in the last month alone, close to the average ANNUAL merchant tonnage lost to piracy. And it wasn't even as bad as the numbers alone said. Usual pirates stole the cargo, had their perverse brand of fun, then left the merchie relatively intact. The new pirates left no survivors, both in ship and crew form, in their wake.  
  
The streaked, cloud like, swirling blue tunnel of slipstream drive gave way to normal space. The -Valley Forge- was immediately challenged and the massive outer shell of battle stations, weapons platforms and starships that sheathed Sol System like a modern day castle ramparts locked her up with their fire control sensors, ready to fire at a moments notice. The mere fact that her computer had already given them the correct countersign to their challenge was the sole reason they hadn't already opened fire.  
  
In front of them, stretching deeper and deeper insystem till it thinned from view was the ever-present column of starships plying for Sol's inner system. Many had noticeably shifted in visible light color as they approached the normal ¾'s C transit velocity. The nearer ships were still accelerating insystem so the shift wasn't as noticeable. With precise movement of his hand, Ulysses reset the holo display from direct visual feed to a composite sensor return. The ships resolved themselves from smears of Doppler shifted color to computer generated representations of what they would look like if at speeds considerably slower.  
  
"Incoming signal from Perimeter Command sir."  
  
"Put it up."  
  
"Would you mind explaining why you are towing four Atlas class cargo ships Captain?!"  
  
"We received their distress call enroute to the Regulus System Fleet Gunnery Range for space trials. Their escort had been wiped out by Pirates numbering eight Destroyers and three Battle Cruisers." That gave the Perimeter Command Commodore pause, for a wolf pack that large was something dangerous. "We stopped to lend them a hand. All pirate ships and their crews are destroyed. I have a full report to file with Starfleet Command on the incident."  
  
"Very well Captain. You may proceed insystem for debrief and final outfitting. Drop the disabled merchies at." the Commodore scanned through his list of possible slips, "Repair Dry Dock 7127."  
  
"Understood sir." Ulysses said as the Commodore terminated the connection. "Helm, take us in." The stars and blue ID bracketed battle stations shifted back into subtle motion as his command brought its STL drive online. The -Forge- and her trailing merchies on their tractor beam leashes left the approach lane and its near prow to stern column of starships. Ulysses double-checked the merchies IFF beacons. It wouldn't do to have them come through so much only to be mistaken for an enemy by an errant mine intent on performing its sole duty of self immolation. Everything was as it should be, Ulysses' concern proving unwarranted as their beacons continued to broadcast clear and perfectly.  
  
At least Repair Dry Dock 7127 wasn't to far off of the Main Transit Locus. Rather than continue around the outside of the system's defenses, Ulysses had chosen the direct approach, cutting across the outer defensive perimeter and speeding up the drop off time by quite a margin. True he could have micro-jumped there in milliseconds, but excessive micro-jumping was rather wasteful on the QSS drives life span and the trip was only 15 minutes at full impulse. The massive merchant shipyard and repair slip at the edge of Sol System grew large on the main viewer. Though not as individually impressive as The Yard here at Sol, or the massive military shipyards at Alpha Centauri and Vulcan, they were still one of the largest concentrations of Merchant shipbuilding and repair in the known galaxy. Slip after slip, tied together with mesh like superstructures stretched out to beyond where human vision could see. Yard spotlights cast pools of light on thousands of hulls of various styles. All were in varying states of completion, everything from freshly laid keel's to nearly completed cargo ships were visible. Robotic arms and living work crews in construction hardsuits and work bee's swarmed about everything, giving the entire complex the look of a disturbed anthill.  
  
"Open a channel." Ulysses said as they cruised towards their destination.  
  
"Channel open."  
  
"This is the -ISS Valley Forge- to Repair Dry Dock 7127. I have some customers for you."  
  
"Understood -Valley Forge-. You may let them go. We'll take it from here."  
  
"Very good. -Valley Forge- out. You may disengage the tractor beams. Open a channel to the Merchant ships." Ulysses turned to face the window that expanded on his holodisplay. "Captain, I'm afraid that we must part company. I wish you and your crews a speedy recovery and once again apologize for Starfleet's inability to protect you."  
  
"No apology is necessary Captain Vanguard. If it wasn't for you showing up when you did we would all be dead by now instead of the pirates. On behalf of my crew and myself I thank you and your valiant crew." The ranking surviving merchie officer said with a broad smile of gratitude.  
  
"You're welcome. Vanguard out." Ulysses watched as the com screen shrank back to the nothingness from which it sprang. "Request a course for Terra Orbit from System Control. Once you have it, give it to Helm and engage."  
  
"Aye sir." The Com officer said.  
  
After a few seconds of quiet conversation between the junior officer and a Lt. in System Control, the Valley Forge swung up and away from the civilian shipyard. Once she had achieved sufficient separation, she swung towards the barely visible point of light that was Terra and engaged her slipstream drive. In a barely imperceptible time period, space reverted to the swirling tunnel of slipstream. Then normal space reappeared with the ¼ crescent of Terra hanging prominently to one side of the holo display. The glowing outlines of vast cities shone on the mother world's night side. A time traveler, if such a thing were possible, from the late 21's century would have found the world largely the same as it had been in his day. Certainly the cities were slightly larger and definitely more vertical, but the ratio of land usage was approximately the same. What that traveler would find strikingly different would be the night sky. Massive defensive stations and shipyards, to say nothing of The Yard itself, had sprouted in Terra orbit. Many of these structures could easily be seen from earth, forming miniature constellations of star like lights as they sat serenely in orbit.  
  
They were nothing in scale compared to the industrial constructs in Alpha Centauri, both in orbit and on the planet itself, but they remained an impressive concentration of weapons platforms and construction centers.  
  
"Send Starfleet Command my regards and transmit our after action report. Something tells me that they will want a debrief before we do anything else."  
  
-Valley Forge, Terra Orbit, 2 hours later-  
  
Ulysses rematerialized in the -Forge's- main transporter room. His debrief hadn't been as bad as he suspected. That was partially because the Admiralty had received reports from other ships on the resurgent Pirate threat. His debriefer had even let slip that the other reports had shown similar starships, both in capabilities and styling. This didn't bode well for merchant ships, for Starfleet would find it very difficult to find adequate ships to guard the convoys that plied the trade routes inside the Empire. Ships were being rushed into production as fast as possible, but it would be a while before there were enough hulls to defend against heavily armed and speedy Pirate wolf packs while adequately defending the new borders with the Grand Alliance.  
  
"Well Cmdr.," Ulysses said to P'tel, "it would seem that Starfleet Command is already aware of the rising pirate threat. They just seem unable to do much about it with the current state of affairs."  
  
"That is not entirely unexpected Captain." She replied as he stepped down from the transporter platform. "Starfleet has been under staffed, both in manpower and hulls, since the end of the Imperial/Borg war. The recent flare up between the Empire and the members of the Grand Alliance has merely enhanced the problem. Now, even more of our ships are tied down defending instead of engaging in active operations. In a way it's a good thing that the war has slowed to sniping from both sides. If the Empire had to engage in a large-scale conflict, we would be forced to leave important areas either weakly defended or not defended at all. There just aren't enough warships currently active to meet all of Starfleet's requirements."  
  
"That's changing slowly but surely. Many of the second run of capital ships are nearing completion, which should bolster our lines sufficiently to allow us to go on the offensive again soon. Unfortunately, we most likely won't be a part of it. Starbase 2000, while being the most important and largest base we have in the Delta Quadrant, is still about as far from the front lines as one can get. I have also heard disturbing reports coming from that area. T'var has said that with the slowing of settlement in former Borg Space these last few years, Starbase 2000 has dropped from its former perch as the premier Fleet Station. She was unable to provide specifics but she definitely implied that being posted there wasn't the honor it once was."  
  
"I feel confident that you will prove otherwise Captain."  
  
"Exec, your confidence in me is welcome, but I'm not sure of your logic."  
  
"In the short time I have known you sir, you have risen two grades in rank, gained captaincy of one of the Empire's premier warships and been decorated with the Empire's highest award for valor. You have managed to find a workable solution to every task placed in front of you. Logic dictates that this will continue to be the case."  
  
Ulysses was about to reply when his communicator chirped. He absently tapped it. "Vanguard here."  
  
"Captain, Starbase Alpha reports that our Chief Medical Officer and our Political Commissar are ready to beam up."  
  
"Very good. Vanguard out." Ulysses turned towards the transporter chief. "You may activate the transport at your leisure Chief."  
  
"Aye sir." After a few taps on the transporter control pad, the chief pushed two of the activation sliders upwards. A faint whine filled the transporter room as the final two members of the -Valley Forge's- crew materialized. Both Ulysses and P'tel had known that they would be ready for beam up close to when Starfleet Command would be done their debrief, so they had merely waited the few intervening minutes in the transporter room.  
  
The first figure was clad in the red and black of a Section 31 Commissar. She had auburn hair pulled back into a braided ponytail. Her features, while beautiful, were largely canceled out by her severe expression and ice blue eyes. As she stared down at Ulysses, he could see the cold calculation in her eyes. While privately Ulysses thought admitting political commissars into a starships chain of command, however unofficially, was a bad idea, there was nothing he could do about it. While the Commissar's might not formally be part of the chain of command, no serving officer in their right mind would second guess a member of Section 31. Getting his ships commissar to sign off on his plans would be just one more obstacle that would have to be overcome. Ulysses forced his face to show a smile as he extended his hand to her as she stepped down from the platform.  
  
"Commissar Stevens, what a pleasure to meet you. Welcome aboard the -Valley Forge-."  
  
"It's a pleasure to meet you as well Captain." She replied with a false smile that never quite made it to her eyes. From the looks of things, Commissar Jessica Stevens would prove to be a very thorny problem indeed.  
  
Ulysses turned to survey his CMO. Just when he thought that the universe had stopped throwing him curve balls for once, another hit him between the eyes. Here she was, nearly the same as he had remembered her. It had been years, but she was just as striking as he had remembered. Ulysses brain shifted gears after being stuck in neutral for a barely perceptible second. He extended his hand to his new Doctor.  
  
"Cmdr. Anna Petersmith," Ulysses managed to get out normally, "it's a pleasure to meet you as well. Welcome aboard the -Valley Forge-." The pair shook hands as he spoke. Everyone else was behind them, so the shock and surprise in Ulysses eyes was seen only by the Doctor.  
  
"It's good to finally meet the Hero of the Empire in the flesh. I must say that you are considerably shorter in person than you appear on the holos." She said with a twinkle in her eyes. One thing was certain, her sense of humor hadn't changed much in the last 11 years. 


	13. Chapter 10

-Chapter Ten - The Sleeping Dragon-  
  
-Imperial Exploratory Fleet 8, Delta Quadrant, Near Galactic Fringe-  
  
-Voyager- cruised along with her squadron mates and her charges leisurely through normal space. The SWAC -Nebula- was performing a long-range scan with her powerful sensors to see if there was anything of interest in the local area. So far, this area of the galaxy seemed not to possess any major powers. Most were small one or two system polities and only a handful had recently achieved warp flight. None had possessed significant amounts of needed resources, nor had any held any useful tech. Basically this region of space was a cosmic backwater, far away from any major powers and underdeveloped as a whole. In the old days, this area would be prime real estate for colonization. But not so any longer, for with the recent breaches in Starfleet loyalty and resurgent enemies surrounding the Empire on all sides new colonization was now on indefinite hold.  
  
"The -Aegis- says she will complete her scan in two minutes Admiral." -Voyager's- captain, Scot Cavit, reported to his CO. He had been her first officer for many years before she was bumped up to Flag rank and he assumed her seat on -Voyager's- Main Bridge.  
  
"It's about time. In a few more months, we should be finished with this babysitting mission and we can return to the front lines where we belong." Janeway replied.  
  
"I couldn't agree more Admiral. All this nursemaiding to Scifleet is getting stale. We haven't encountered a credible threat in weeks. Sims are fine as a stopgap, but nothing replaces actual combat to keep a crew on its toes." Janeway's head nodded in agreement on the small screen situated to the right of the Captain's chair. -Voyager- didn't have the holodisplay upgrade, but she did have three standard panel displays, one front and two to either side allowing for a wider view of surrounding space. They were currently showing the after aspects of the other ships in the Voyager Battlegroup and the three Scifleet -Nebulas- they were escorting.  
  
"Incoming communiqué from the -Aegis- Sir." Lt. Harry Kim spoke up from behind and to the left of Cavit. "It appears that they have found something of interest. It's a system near the periphery of our scout path. It appears to be moderately industrialized and possesses spaceborn infrastructure around its fourth planet."  
  
"Well well Admiral, it looks like we will have something of interest after all. Do you think that that system could be where our recent shadow's have come from?"  
  
"Hmm, a distinct possibility seeing as how it's the only nearby system that seems to have the tech base to do so. Cloak all vessels." Janeway ordered. "Order the -Aegis-, -Socrates-, -Othello-, and -Wallenstein-," Janeway named the three Scifleet vessels and their cargo ship, "to form up, Theta formation. The Battlegroup will lay in a course for that system and engage warp immediately. I want a standard recon sweep from the outer system. We don't know who they are yet, and I don't want any unnecessary surprises. Once we get a close in scan, we can better determine how to proceed."  
  
"As you command Admiral." Cavit turned toward his helmsman as Janeway cut the communication. "Mr. Paris, plot a course for the new system, warp 9."  
  
"Aye sir. Laying in coordinates now. Battlegroup and Scifleet units have formed up, Theta formation. Warp drive is online and standing by."  
  
"Engage."  
  
-Interstellar Concordium System 450, System Picket Battlegroup 84-  
  
Everything was going according to plan. The Terran Empire was as weak as it had been in a century, the ISC had rebuilt its shattered legions and had found a powerful ally in the Dominion. The time was ripe to strike. Only a few more months would be required to get the Dominion fleet back up to strength, then all would be brought under the Galactic Unity's banner of peace and brotherhood. The tech briefings on the latest Imperial and Grand Alliance starship designs showed that the ISC enjoyed a quantitative advantage over them in many areas. With a little luck, the powers of the Alpha and Beta quadrants would soon be disarmed and would embrace the peace and prosperity being in the GU offered them. Without it, the pacification campaign would merely take longer with the end result being the same.  
  
Aboard the ISC Battlecruiser -Path of the True-, it was highly evident that the time to the kickoff of the new pacification campaign was rapidly approaching. Ships were being turned out from repair/refit slips with redoubled speed. The training regimen was constantly speeding up of late, focusing on the ships of the GA and the TE. There had even been some late model ships dropped off for study and wargaming. Granted the crews placed on the three ex-Terran Empire -Galaxies- weren't up to Starfleet standards due to their unfamiliarity with the alien equipment and it's maximum capabilities, but the -Path of the True- and her squadron mate -Forge of Unity- had handily beaten them in a 3 on 2 match up suffering only minor simulated damage in return. And the rumor mill had it that some Romulan -D'deridexes- and Klingon -Negh'Var's- were due to come in as well. They were reported to have come fresh from the hidden shipyards that birthed them for both the Romulan Star and Klingon Empires. The -Path of the True's- Meskeen captain, Grot, looked foreword to testing his mettle against the top of the line Battlecruisers of the premier members of the Grand Alliance.  
  
"Captain, perimeter scouts report a group of starships approaching at high warp under cloak. They appear to be of Terran Empire origin!" Grot's lynx like Korlivilaran tactical officer said tersely.  
  
The frog like Meskeen's black eyes seemed to bulge out of his head even more so than usual. No! They couldn't have found us, not now when we are so close. The Meskeen Officer's mind whirred as he sifted through the possibilities. "Do the scouts have a count and type available?"  
  
"Unit count coming in now sir. Scout's say its five Intrepid class, 10 Saber class, three Nebula class and one Atlas class."  
  
The Captain visibly relaxed. That meant that it was only the Deep Range Exploratory Fleet that had been nosing around the Gamma Quadrant and not an attack fleet. Yet that still meant that System 450 would have unexpected and unwelcome pests soon. The Exploratory fleet had proven devilishly hard to keep track of, despite the ISC's superior anti-cloak sensors. It didn't help that for an exploration unit they kept an extremely intense sensor watch. The SWAC Nebula's sensor dish was almost as good as a standard ISC sensor array, which meant that the tailing ISC ships were spotted nearly as soon as they picked up their quarry. Yet the Imperial Exploratory Fleet's path was taking it closer and closer to the edge of ISC space. It was therefore not entirely unexpected that they would discover the lightly industrialized system of 450 and come in for a closer look.  
  
It appeared that ISC Pacification Fleet's recent training was about to be brought into a true trial by fire, for the Terran Empire must not yet learn of its impending doom even at this late of a date. While Intelligence said that the TE was short on Genesis warheads, with seeming proof provided by their lack of use even in the darkest days of the now stalled Grand Alliance offensive, it was best to cover all bases. The ISC had been burned by poor intelligence of the Terran Empire before, and it would not happen this time if any Commanding officers that Grot knew had anything to say on the matter.  
  
"Orders from System Overlord Ilska sir. We are to go to red alert. All ships are to engage cloak and fall to a safe distance from the probable destination coordinates of the Imperial fleet. Once they have dropped out of warp, we will close to PPD range and take them out. The Imperial's must not be allowed to escape. Attempt to capture if possible, but under no circumstances allow them to get away."  
  
"Transmit our acknowledgement and bring us to red alert. Order the Battlegroup to execute formation Renzik. Maintain cloak until I give the order to fire. Either they are very arrogant, which is a distinct possibility, or they think their cloak is more effective vs. our sensors than it really is. Judging from the sensor capabilities of our captured Galaxy, our cloaks are slightly better and should allow us to close undetected till we are in position to fire."  
  
-ISS Voyager, Flag Bridge-  
  
Admiral Janeway looked on impassively as she sat in her command chair. The wraparound display panels filled the four points of the compass on -Voyager's- somewhat cramped Flag Bridge, broken only by four doors. There was only so much room on a cruiser, and since a cruiser was the smallest Imperial warship to house a separate bridge for flag officers, it was understandably small in relation to larger vessel's Flag Bridges. Just the same, it was hers and from it she commanded one of the best Battlegroups in all of Starfleet. The ships of her Battlegroup were close enough that -Voyager's- passives could pick them up. They were drawn in on the viewscreens as transparent outlines indicating their cloaked status. The rainbow spray of stars shrank away, coalescing into fiery points of light as the Battlegroup dropped back into normal space. One point of light was slightly larger and more luminous than the rest, for it was the star who's planets she had come to investigate.  
  
The -Aegis'- powerful passive sensors probed deep into the system, seeking out its fourth planet. It relayed its findings to -Voyager- so that she could see what Admiral October saw on the Flag Bridge of his Scifleet command ship. A small holoprojector came to life in front of Katherine's seat. A serene M-class world appeared front and center, with the massive constructs of deep space construction yards and smelters along with what could only be defensive battle stations enveloping it. While they weren't all that numerous, they were being expanded, and the sheer size of those completed indicated that this was a colony world of a major power. If, as their small number initially suggested, the orbital industry was the first attempts of a new species to build starships, there would be less of the truly massive ones. Yet nearly all of them would be capable of building a -Wraith- sized warship. It was most assuredly a colony world, no doubt about it.  
  
"Are you seeing what I'm seeing Admiral?" Horatio October's deep tenor voice came over the secure whisker laser com.  
  
"If you are referring to the apparent total absence of patrol starships then yes, I believe I am." Janeway leaned foreword and rubbed the bridge of her nose while her mouth frowned. Something wasn't right here she though as she stared at the plot. "You just don't build all those shipyards and then leave their defense to fixed fortifications alone. There has to be starships out there, and since we can't see them, they must be operating under cloak."  
  
"Should the -Aegis- we go active with her tachyon sensors?" October asked. From the sound of it he thought that it was an unappealing option. Katherine was apt to agree with him, for Scifleet though he may be, he knew that if the new species had the right sensors, activating her anti-cloak sensor systems would give away their position immediately despite their cloak. As she mulled over her options, it became a moot point.  
  
-[b]ISCV Path of the True-  
  
Grot paced his bridge restlessly as a small moisturizer floating above him sent a fine mist down on him to keep his amphibian skin moist. The range wound down as his Battlegroup and others slowly closed the range to the very edge of what they knew Imperial anti-cloak sensors could detect. Finally they were all in position. Supreme Overlord Ilska transmitted the attack order and as one, the cloaked defenders of System 450 opened fire. Plasmatic Pulsar Devices had been refined considerably since the ISC and the Terran Empire last met. They had always been a long ranged weapon but Pronhoulite engineers and tweaked the design so that it was not only among the most powerful weapons known, it was also one of the longest ranged.  
  
Erupting out of still cloaked ISC warships the PPD's crashed down on the Voyager Battlegroup and their Scifleet charges. Most of the normal defensive fleet was out on maneuvers with 101st Pacification Fleet, but those remaining were more than sufficient. The PPD's carrier beams streamed out across the vast gulf between the ISC ships and their Terran Empire targets. Once in place and on target, the carrier beam allowed plasma packets to travel FTL down its length. Their targets were basically naked, with neither shields nor ablative armor generators deployed, and the resulting carnage was to be expected when weapons that could fracture a moon met their exposed hulls.  
  
Large though the Scifleet -Nebulas- and -Atlas- cargo ship might be, they were no where near up to current Imperial battle line standards in terms of survivability. Though the -Nebulas- possessed their Starfleet counterpart's triple, reinforced hull, they lacked their heavy external armor and internal damage control and redundant systems. Even if they had had their meager defenses fully online, it wouldn't have been enough to hold back the onslaught for long. The compact outline of their hulls were momentarily outlined in amber as the unexpected and overpowering blasts temporarily overloaded their cloaks' stealth field. Plasma slammed into their nacelles and pylons, but at the range of the engagement, launching at targets under cloak, it was far from a precision strike. Most beams hit their targets near where their gunners desired them to, but some didn't. A large section of -Socrates- saucer was cleaved away by the knife like plasma waves as the carrier beam played across her primary hull. The large ship rang like a gong as the five waves ate deep into her, exposing deck after deck to the cold vacuum of space. Her port nacelle was sheared off along with most of the left side of her secondary hull. Under the massive energy transfer, whole sections of Duranium hull matrix had no option but to vaporize into their component atoms, leaving gaping white hot wounds behind. Many trailed plasma flame as EPS conduits ruptured near Environmental system distribution trunks. 


	14. Chapter 11

-Chapter Eleven - Volley and Thunder -  
  
-ISS Voyager-  
  
Deployed armor and active shields might have stemmed the worst of the damage, but the PPD was designed to be a long ranged heavy attack weapon. With it, ISC fleets could tear the heart out of enemy forces from well beyond their own maximum range. This was exactly what -Path of the True- and her consorts were doing to the Voyager Battlegroup. Waves of deadly plasma accelerated to FTL velocities slammed into the naked Imperial vessels, slashing into their hulls, wiping out phaser arrays, engines, shield grids, armor nodes and sensors.  
  
The first inkling -Voyager- had that it was under attack was when the first plasma wave hit. By luck of the draw, it was only a glancing blow, but it was still more than sufficient to shear away a good portion of the upper front saucer section. Damage caused by the stupendous energies being released on her hull temporally overloaded her cloak's ability to mask her signature. Her cloak failed in the area around the PPD strike while the rest of the ship remained cloaked. A third of her port dorsal phaser array and her secondary sensor array was obliterated. Flame and debris streamed into space only to be cut of abruptly as shimmering emergency force fields and thick armored bulkheads slammed into place. Then the force of the blast shunted -Voyager- down and to starboard. Then the cloak snapped back fully online hiding the hideous wound from all sensors.  
  
Admiral Janeway and her staff were atomized when the knife of plasma cut deep into the armored primary hull and vaporized the Flag Bridge. They never even knew what hit them, never even suspected that they were the first direct casualties in the continuation of a war the Imperials thought won long ago.  
  
The starfield shown on the main viewscreen on the bridge shifted as -Voyager- lurched drunkenly aside while her red alert alarms began to knell. Fleeting glimpses of destruction were caught on the shifting starfield as PPD's streamed into the formation from nearly all sides. Starships flashed into fiery partial existence as their cloaks overloaded, then disappeared like phantoms leaving behind clouds of debris as their cloaks came back online. That was the truly scary thing, for the damage was happening so fast and against cloaked ships that there was no time to get an accurate reading on how badly the Battlegroup was being hurt.  
  
Tom tried desperately to bring -Voyager- back under control even as the Battlegroup shed its failed stealth in favor of as much defensive systems as it could bring online. -Socrates- and -Othello- rippled out from under their cloak and began frantic evasion patterns in an effort to break weapons lock. ECM drones spat from their racks, creating exponentially expanding sensor signatures in an effort to confuse ISC sensors. Yet they did not know that standard Imperial deception ECM settings had been analyzed in their entirety by ISC engineers.  
  
-Path of the True-  
  
"Good hits on all targets." The Korlivilaran said, then continued. "ECM drone separation sir."  
  
"I see it." Grot said as his tactical repeater began to blossom hostile signatures. Yet a full ¾ of them disappeared rapidly as CIC rightly designated them as attempts to spoof the sensor systems and squelched them out. While the plot was still cluttered with false signatures, starships regularly fought using the full play of their ECM systems. The effective drones represented more of a nuisance than anything else and one that would soon be eliminated.  
  
"Order the BG to close to extreme plasma torp range and engage with all tubes" The powerful Battlecruisers thrusted to 85 PSL while their smaller consorts kept pace easily. The ISC's new internal damper design allowed for a full 10% increase in dependable max speed. An ISC Destroyer could press 90 PSL with little inherent risk  
  
-Voyager-  
  
Captain Cavit was in shock. The Admiral was gone. Admiral October soon joined her as the dyeing -Socrates- blew in half as her AM tanks and warp core let go. With his death, command of the Battlegroup devolved to him.  
  
"Order the Battlegroup to go to warp NOW!" Cavit shouted.  
  
"Impossible Captain." Tuvok coolly responded from his Tactical station. "A high level anti warp field has come online. Warp speed is impossible."  
  
"Then lay in a course for the nearest subspace corridor locus!" He ordered even as he gripped the armrests of his command chair tightly. Tom Paris was maneuvering -Voyager- as hard as he could in an effort to avoid the PPD fire. Unfortunately even the enemy destroyers mounted, them if not in the numbers the larger ships did. A spinning, shattered warp nacelle from the -Othello- flashed across the main viewscreen as Tom twitched his ship to avoid it at the last second.  
  
"Enemy is closing on us sir. Sensors say 85 PSL!" Harry Kim told his Captain with an edge of panic piercing his usual almost Vulcan like coolness.  
  
"But that's insane, their sure to have a compensator failure!"  
  
"The sensors don't lie sir. All Enemy vessels are closing at a steady 85 PSL."  
  
"What's the estimated time to the nearest locus and enemy intercept at present speed?" The Captain demanded.  
  
Tuvok regarded him levelly. "One minute 23.8 seconds and 62.5 seconds respectively. Their formation is slightly out of formation. If their lead elements can be delayed we should be able to make it to the locus before they can overtake us." -Voyager- was rocked violently as the remnants of a PPD strike hit her aft shields. It was fortunate that one of the Battlegroups few surviving -Saber's- had been almost directly in the line of fire. Its sacrifice was the only thing that allowed the flagship to survive. "Aft shields now down to 5%"  
  
"Sir," Kim shouted, "CIC says that the enemy is most likely the Interstellar Concordium. Weapons are consistent with known Plasmatic Pulsar Device effects."  
  
"Oh hell..." Scot murmured. So the ISC hadn't been nearly totally destroyed as was originally thought. They had packed up stakes and set about rebuilding their shattered military out here on the galactic rim about as far away from Imperial space as possible.  
  
"Captain, -Aegis- is reporting new sensor contacts bearing 183 Mark 127 approaching at high warp." The Scifleet -Nebula- might be missing half of her starboard warp nacelle and a good chunk of her main deflector, but her sensor suite was still kicking and her impulse drive was pushing her hard to keep pace with the rest of the fleeing Battlegroup. Of course one -Nebula-, two -Intrepids- and a -Saber-, all with battle damage and only one with functional warp engines wasn't much of a Battlegroup. "Preliminary scans indicate that they are a mix of ISC and... and Dominion vessels sir!"  
  
"Well isn't that lovely!" Cavit turned to Lt. Kim. "Give me the -Vanguard- on secure com."  
  
"Channel open."  
  
The haunted face of the -Vanguard's- First Officer stared back at Scot.  
  
"Captain Michelin is dead sir, I have assumed command." Cmdr. Justin Beach said. "I think I know why you're calling sir. Datalink has sent -Aegis'- data to us as well. The Empire must learn of this new threat. We'll do our duty."  
  
"I expected nothing less Cmdr." Scot said with mingled respect and regret. Both knew that only one solution held the best chance of successful escape for the lone ship left in the Voyager Battlegroup that was FTL capable to escape. Part of Scot longed to save at least some part of the other ships personnel, but both he and the other CO's knew that their was neither the time available nor the space onboard -Voyager- to house more than a handful.  
  
"Good luck Sir."  
  
"Same to you Cmdr."  
  
"Don't worry sir, well keep em off your back."  
  
Beach gave a series of orders, and seconds later the three remaining consorts to the -ISS Voyager- swung about. The damaged portions of their hulls and their warp nacelles were still glowing white hot despite the cold of space, yet their impulse drives were still fully functional. Turning to face the enemy, they began to shed escape pods as all nonessential crew and scientists were ordered to abandon ship. The range dropped and PPD fire slackened. Because the carrier beam sent the plasma into subspace for it's transit to the target, it was only effective at long range. At shorter ranges, there wasn't enough distance to both send the plasma waves into subspace and then return them to normal space using any known means. That didn't mean that the ISC vessels teeth had been pulled by any stretch of the imagination, for they still had powerful phaser strips and plasma torpedo batteries. The first volley of yellow plasma torps flashed across space shortly after the surviving imperials launched their quantums. Yet the lead ISC vessels couldn't maneuver excessively lest they allow -Voyager- a lead on them that they would be unable to make up short of the locus. Nearly every quantum hit it's target in spite of the ISC's ECM, for it took quite a bit to fool a SWAC sensor suite.  
  
At the same time the far from nimble plasma torps had to close on furiously jinking targets that, even robbed of ¾ of their customary ECM effectiveness, were considerably harder to hit than their enemies. The blue orbs of quantum torpedoes slammed into ISC Destroyers now firewalling their drives to their max 90 PSL and beyond. Even without a weapons pod, a -Nebula- still possessed the high capacity quantum tube mounted just above its main deflector dish. Volleys of eight quantums spat from it every five seconds and were joined by a steady stream coming from the -Saber- and -Intrepid-. The handful of ISC Destroyers escorting the trio of Battlecruisers was cut down short of intercepting Cavit's command. The three Battlecruisers were forced to begin maneuvering as their shields were stripped away lest a lucky hit take out their impulse drives and allow -Voyager- to escape. The distance between the lead ISC vessels and their highest priority target grew with each passing second, and the enemy commander knew this all to well. Fire shifted from trying to hit the elusive -Voyager- to the three charging Imperial ships. They were considerably closer, and once the ISC ships no longer had to worry about their fire, they could still catch Cavit short of the undefended locus and prevent his escape.  
  
All enemy vessels in range turned their fire on the charging Imperials. Range between the lead ISC vessels and the Imperials was winding down fast as they closed on each other at significant fractions of the speed of light. Phaser fire formed a deadly latticework between the 6 ships. It was joined by PPD fire from the more distant ISC formations and the end result was never in doubt. -Aegis- was blown apart, the largest surviving piece the size of a man's fist. The small -Saber- class -Yanakov- was cut roughly in half in a cloud of vaporized alloy and armor. -Vanguard staggered as long ranged PPD fire clawed at her secondary hull. Her impulse engine was sheared violently off, ceasing her violent evasion patterns and making her a sitting duck for the long ranged snipers closing on her position  
  
Adrift, its engines mangled, sparking wrecks leaking drive plasma in the ship's wake, the -Vanguard- awaited her execution. The enemy swung leisurely toward her, bringing both his powerful PPD and Plasma Torpedo banks on target. The orange beam streamed out from the PPD emitter, intersecting with the stricken Intrepid. The first of five yellow plasma waves dutifully followed the carrier beam down on their target. A loud CRUNCH echoed throughout the Cruiser as it was shaken violently, a large fracture with molten edges forming in what remained of her outer hull and armor. A second CRUNCH, this one louder than the first was heard, forcing the breech wider still, opening more compartments to space. Chunks of ruptured hull plate and splintered bulkheads now trailed from the Intrepid, joining a growing swarm of lifeboats. The third and fourth plasma waves hit, causing the ship to creak and groan from the stresses as her SIF labored to hold the mangled wreckage together. The fifth wave struck with a pair of plasma torps, finally burrowing through the dyeing Intrepid's inner hull to find her AM storage tanks. The resulting explosion claimed what was left of the Imperial Cruiser, vaporizing a good portion of her secondary and primary hulls, sending the remaining primary hull pin wheeling foreword trailing debris and flames. The nacelle pylons and scorched and broken warp nacelles blew aft from the boil of light that marked the -ISS Vanguard's- funeral pyre.  
  
But she and her lost consorts had bought the time that Cavit so desperately needed. -Voyager- flashed from normal space and into the subspace domain that held the subspace corridor network just as an avalanche of PPD fire crisscrossed its vacated location.  
  
The angry, swirling reddish orange tube like vortex of a subspace corridor formed around -Voyager- and she brought her warp engines to full power. The ISC knew how to use subspace corridors, for they had been using them for over 100 years longer than the Empire. And there the come Cavit thought. A trio of ISC Battlecruisers popped into the corridor, but because of the lead granted to him by the Battlegroups sacrifice, they could only gain on him slowly. Their warp drives were more powerful than his, enabling them to slowly make up the distance and engage him, but they would have to close to phaser range. ISC plasma torpedoes didn't have warp sustainer engines and PPD's, by all Imperial science had been able to figure out about them, shouldn't work in subspace corridors. 


	15. Chapter 12

-Chapter Twelve - Everyone Needs Friends-  
  
-ISS Valley Forge, 10 Foreword Lounge, 22 days out from Starbase 2000-  
  
A group of four Midshipmen, two men and two women barely out of their teens were clustered at one of the tables near the doors. The lone hollow pip on their uniform collars denoted that they were the lowest caste of officer, fresh out of the Academy and on their first deep space cruise.  
  
"You see," one of the men in Engineering amber said to one of the women in Command red, "back in my grandfather's day things were a lot different than they are now. Back then, Constitutions ruled space and all combat was fought at warp. Not like it is nowadays, with every engagement fought mainly at STL speeds. At warp, you had to be a REALLY sharp helm officer, because at those speeds, a slight miscalculation could have drastic consequences. Nothing like accidentally flying into a star or even an asteroid at Warp 4 to ruin your day. Hell, you could even collide with the other ship if your course was off by a few degrees!"  
  
"Oh ya, like flying around at 70 PSL in normal space is a real picnic Johnson!" The young Command officer retorted. "The time dilation effects alone are a real pain to calculate in your head, not that its a real problem with FTL sensors and a ships computer, but that doesn't stop the Academy instructors from drilling it near incessantly." Her Engineering companion looked like he was about to start into a long winded reply, but she cut him off. "And maneuvers at warp back then were easily estimated due to the limitations of their ancient SIF. You could only turn so fast unless you wanted to shear your hull in half. Nowadays, I have to worry about keeping pace with ships that can damn near turn on a dime at 60 PSL. You try doing that, especially at knife range, then tell me that I have it easy."  
  
The other woman, this one in security gray, glanced up from the lively debate as the double transparent aluminum doors swooshed open. Her eyes went wide and she hissed to her three companions barely above a whisper.  
  
"There he is!"  
  
"Who?" the other male, this one in Science blue said as he started to turn towards the doors.  
  
"Don't look you fool!" She whispered to Midshipman Carstairs fiercely. "It's him. The Skipper!"  
  
For most Midshipmen on the first cruise, their Captain was a mythic figure, second only to God and even then not by much. But for the Middies on the -Valley Forge-, their Captain was more. Everyone knew all their was to know about Captain Ulysses Vanguard. He had almost single-handedly saved 2nd Fleet from total annihilation, and had received the Lion of Terra because of it. The ease of which he had exterminated the pirate vermin the -Forge- had encountered enroute to the Fleet Gunnery Range at Regulus had merely increased the young officers case of hero worship. From what the newsies were saying, he was the next James Kirk or Benjamin Maxwell. As their Captain walked across the deck, crimson cape billowing slightly, then took a seat near one of the foreword-facing floor to ceiling windows, the four midshipmen all cast covert glances his way.  
  
"He looks a lot younger than I expected, but there's something about him..." The Security officer said dreamily.  
  
"I know! I was saving this for later, but in the hallway this morning, as I was going off shift, he said 'Hello Miss Midshipman Tanaka.'" The Command officer said. "Can you believe it, he knows my name and he even was pleasant."  
  
"I wouldn't put to much stock in that." The Science officer said in a slightly huffy tone, for he despised having to compete with a Captain for the attention of a beautiful lady. "He's pleasant to damn near everyone as far as I can gather. And I have never once heard him misname anyone. Must have a bloody good memory to have the entire crew memorized like that."  
  
"I'll lay good credits that it's those Borg implants he still carries around. What I wouldn't give to have a computer in my head some days." Midshipman Johnson replied.  
  
"Yah, and I'll bet you'd really enjoy being assimilated to get it wouldn't you." Midshipman Carstairs deadpanned. "Wait, on second thought, the Borg would never assimilate you, you would detract from perfection far to much to be worthy." The other three all burst out laughing while Johnson made a sour face.  
  
"Just you wait, I'll make you pay for your jibes where it counts... the poker table!" Johnson replied.  
  
"You're on!" And with that the Four Midshipmen got up and went towards their bunks on Deck 13 to get down to serious business.  
  
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -  
  
Ulysses settled down into the chair in 10 Foreword and stared out at the swirling blue vortex of Slipstream that stretched off into infinity before him. Within seconds a waiter was at the table awaiting his order.  
  
"Romulan ale and orange juice please." While they turned an interesting almost florescent muddy color when mixed, the flavor the combination was excellent.  
  
While he waited for his drink, his thoughts invariably drifted to his new CMO. Of all the sickbays in all the galaxy she had to walk into mine he thought. He had spent the last three days doing his level best to avoid contact with her. It was irrational really, for they had been inseparable friends in the close knit community of -Oberon-. Perhaps it was that he feared not her but what she knew. No one living knew him like she did. Now that he was older, he consciously realized this, and the part of him that wouldn't allow any personal attachments that kept him away. It would be so easy to fall back into the familiar patterns of friendship that it couldn't be allowed to happen. If it did, it would become impossible for him to protect her. The glimpses his sense had shown him of what was to come had proven that to him beyond a shadow of a doubt. Anyone close to him would be hurt badly. It was inevitable. It was certain. It was...  
  
"Is this seat taken?" a voice said from his right. HER voice! Ulysses twitched as if struck.  
  
"Not at all. Enjoy yourself." He stammered out as he rose, leaving his drink half finished on the table. He turned and strode determinedly out the doors without a backward glance. Cmdr. Anna Petersmith frowned at his back and fire light in her eyes. If Ulysses wouldn't talk to her about what was bothering him on his own, she would damn well have to make him. Just as determinedly, she strode after him. After a few corridor junctions and turbolifts, she followed his trail to his personal quarters.  
  
"Ulysses open the door, we need to talk." She said after she pressed the admittance key. The door didn't budge. "Computer, override door controls to Officer's Quarters 001, authorization Petersmith Alpha Baker Five Zebra Seven." The computer obliged the ships ranking medical officer by disabling the lock and opening the door. She stepped into his quarters and activated a personal jammer.  
  
"Can't you take a hint and leave me alone?" Ulysses growled past a pained expression.  
  
"You know me, I'm just as stubborn as you are." She growled back with startling intensity. Then her voice softened and she pleaded with him. "Damn it Uly, talk with me! We haven't seen each other going on 11 years and you haven't spoken more than five words to me since I came aboard."  
  
"What would you have me say, good to see you again, how have the years been treating you?!"  
  
"It would be better than the silent treatment you've been putting on. What on earth did I do to warrant that? We were best friends, and as such I think I deserve an explanation."  
  
"Ok, you want an explanation, here's one. If you stay my friend, you'll just be hurt, and hurt badly. You might even die."  
  
"What do you mean?" Anna said as she frowned.  
  
"That's just it." Ulysses gave a short snort of laughter. "I don't know what I mean." He began to pace restlessly. "If you got hurt because of me, I could never forgive myself. I could never, EVER hurt you. And that's why you have to stay away! That's why everyone has to stay away. Something bad is going to happen, and it will hurt all those close to me."  
  
"You know something Ulysses, you are the most stubborn and self righteous twit I have ever met." Anna said exasperatedly. "I'm your friend, and I know the risks being that entails perhaps even more than you do. Which is why I willingly CHOOSE to continue to be your friend. You cannot just cut yourself off from your friends because they may or may not be hurt, that very act itself hurts them. Can't you get it through your thick skull that I remain your friend in spite of the risks?!"  
  
"But I don't want to hurt you Anna, and if we remain close, I can't help but do so. I've seen it!" Ulysses said, tears welling in his eyes at what he was forcing himself to do.  
  
"As far as I'm concerned, I'll take that risk." Anna replied immediately  
  
"But..."  
  
"But nothing! I can tell that you think that by shouldering your burdens entirely by yourself you're somehow sparing the rest of us from sharing your hurt. But like it or not I'm your friend and friends don't let friends go it alone even when they think it's necessary. I'm not going to stop being your friend EVER. You're stuck with me Uly, so you better damn well get used to the idea."  
  
Ulysses sagged visibly and sat down on a nearby chair. "Eleven years and you still are more mulish than I am."  
  
"And a darn good thing too, because unless I'm greatly mistaken, you need a friend right about now." She said with a slight satisfied smirk on her face.  
  
"You're right Anna. I... I haven't had one since I left the -Oberon-. Sure I've had acquaintances, allies, mentors... but I have never allowed myself a true friend."  
  
"That's no way to go through life Uly." Anna said softly.  
  
"I know but I didn't want anyone to get... but it doesn't matter now. You're right, I am stuck with you, for good or ill." He sat straighter, as if a giant weight had been lifted from his shoulders and a hint of a smile played at the corners of his mouth as Anna sat down across from him.  
  
"So, now that we're talking again, how about you tell me what happened to the teen filled with piss and vinegar and a shadow of a plan who jumped ship when no one was looking? Seems like he and the decorated officer sitting in front of me are mutually exclusive." Anna said, pointing to the gleaming Lion of Terra that hung with the rest of his campaign medals beneath his communicator pin.  
  
"I found a better plan than mine. I realized that my plan merely struck out at the brainwashed populous of the Empire and even in the unlikely event that it succeeded wouldn't change the system that had killed my parents. As much as I desired revenge, I realized that true revenge could only be attained by bringing down the entire system. Admiral T'var showed me that and gave me the ability to achieve my new goal. Slowly but surely the system is changing. By now you have surmised that most officers aren't like Kirk and Pike were. That is largely because of the teachings of Spock. For good or ill, depending on the side you're on, they have gone a long way to moderate Imperial policy and Starfleet enforcement of that policy. Despite Section's best efforts to eliminate his teachings, they are more prevalent with each passing year. There is no exact numbers for evident security reasons, but it must be so. Why else would policy shift so much from the barbarism of Spock's time to what it is now?"  
  
"Your reasoning is sound, but I think that it's liable to start backsliding again now that the public is terrified about the Grand Alliance. Not that I begrudge them from rising up against the horrid conditions they were forced into, but one has to admit that the sneak attack against Terra was not bound to win over many Imperial citizens. If the Emperor was to make any non Imperial's life forfeit today, it would be carried out without question. Then there's the rumors that the GA has already done as much within their borders. Somehow I don't think that Spock's vision of the Empire and other species working hand in hand with each other will come about anytime soon."  
  
"I'm forced to agree with you. It will only begin to happen if there is a drastic change in the Imperial government." Fire flared in his eyes and his mouth formed a snarl of hate. "That is one thing I would be more than happy to do. Our great Emperor," Ulysses spat out the title with as much venom as he could muster, "is none other than the leader of the Purity Squad that killed my parents."  
  
Anne gasped. "Are you sure?"  
  
"I watched the internal sensor recordings at least a million times, trust me, I'm sure."  
  
Anne remembered that time. Her playmate had withdrawn into himself, starring at the screen as the images replayed themselves over and over again. Her father had finally put a stop to it, but Ulysses was never again like he was before his parent's death.  
  
"Part of me wishes that the GA had succeeded in wiping out the Empire. Perhaps something better would have arisen from it's ashes."  
  
"Perhaps, but perhaps something much worse would have sprung forth. The GA has good reason to hate the Empire, and I don't think they would have been very forgiving if they had won."  
  
"But they didn't, and now we are left with a stalemate that neither side is currently powerful enough to break." Ulysses said, and both frowned at the implications a long smoldering war would have. The bad blood was too deep on both sides for much of anything to stem the mutual hate for a long, long time. 


	16. Chapter 13

Chapter Thirteen – Starbase 2000  
  
Starbase 2000, Delta Quadrant  
  
The dirtside component of Starbase 2000 was a cool M-class planet barely inside the liquid water zone of the local yellow, main sequence sun known as Prescott's Star. The change in orbit to make the planet warmer was deemed by Starfleet Command to be so insignificant to be uneconomical to move, so vast polar ice caps covered much of the planet. Near the equator, the mean temperature was pleasant, but at the poles, the temperature regularly plummeted to well, WELL below freezing. The planet was called Lilith, and though the system was well into former Borg held space, but the system possessed no intelligent life and few resources that the Borg didn't already have in more populous systems. Just the same, there was a significant metal heavy asteroid belt and some of the moons orbiting the star's gas giants could make excellent colony worlds in the future.  
  
But that wasn't the reason Starfleet chose Prescott's Star for the location of its primary base of operations in the Delta Quadrant. The main reason was that Prescott's Star, like only a handful of other systems yet discovered, was a rather large nexus of subspace corridor loci. While most systems held around four or five loci, Prescott's Star held upwards of 20. Many were still being plotted by Scifleet vessels to allow accurate navigation through them, but one could already travel throughout most of the Delta quadrant from Prescott's Star without having to "change lanes" through another star system.  
  
It was on Lilith, in the Capital city of Eden, where the Starfleet brass responsible for one of the largest Starbases, Fleetyards and conglomeration of colonized sectors outside of the core worlds met to plan out how to put the government's vision into practice. Although Lilith's population had grown to over five billion in the ten years since the colony was founded, it was still under Starfleet jurisdiction. While the original prestige of the post may have left as Starfleet and the Empire became preoccupied with pressing concerns elsewhere, there was still a colony to run and a gaggle of sectors to rule.  
  
Inside the Sector Council Chambers there was a collection of brass not seen outside of Starfleet Command on Terra. All officers of Flag Rank were required to attend, as it would be they that executed first the Terran Council and now the Emperor's will. One would have thought that such a collection of high-ranking officers would be a prime target for any faction with a grudge against the Terran Empire, and indeed it is. But the assembled officers had given weighty kickbacks to local criminal cartels for protection and intel official sources couldn't provide. They felt secure in their security precautions. No external force could get past the system's defenses before they could be whisked away via transporter and no local force could slip past their security net. Or so they thought.  
  
Unity Operative 11J, Outside the Sector Council Chambers, Eden   
  
The operative slunk about in the shadows of the vibrant and growing city. It was through a combination of factors that he could succeed where others would be caught. Even though the Terran Empire was currently engaged in a war with eight other powers, the security measures at this base had grown lax. The security of Starbase 2000 had grown considerably more haphazard over the recent years. Most of it was due to diligent and dedicated personnel being shifted to more active posts. Part of it was due to the stepping down of Starbase 2000's priority being seen as a green light to begin dumping the true dregs of Starfleet there so they wouldn't bother anyone else. But no matter the cause, the new holes in the base's security umbrella meant that an operative could sneak into the base, and with a little liberal palm greasing, bring explosives as well.  
  
From beneath his tunic, the operative pulled a remote detonator. After pressing the lone button, a booming explosion was heard. The Sector Council Chambers collapsed in on itself, crushing nearly every ranking Starfleet Flag Officer in the Delta Quadrant under thousands and thousands of tons of rubble. From here and there, wild cheers could be heard from small knots of Starfleet personnel. Others, the young officers and enlisted personnel yet to be corrupted by the growing rot of the place, could only stare in wild-eyed, terror filled disbelief as death visited their upper ranks almost to a man. Civil defense and emergency response team alarms began to sound throughout the city.   
  
From his place in the shadows, the operative working towards the ends of the Galactic Unity straightened upright while at the same time searching for any prying eyes. Finding none with both his eyes and passive sensor suite, his ancient, vagabond style clothing shifted to liquid and reformed into the Starfleet command branch uniform. His face shifted, taking the form of the junior officer he had first come across that fitted his needs. The young Lieutenant had been so young, so trusting, it was pitifully easy to vaporize him and assume his identity. With a brief grin at his success, the Changeling put on his game face and joined the Starfleeters running towards the Council Chambers in a vain attempt to render aid. There were only a few thousand Founders left thanks to the surprise attack by the Terran Empire on their homeworld. The Jem'Hadar responsible for his safety had been nearly implacable when they learned that he planned to join the advance team of operatives that would lay the groundwork for the coming offensive. They had argued, and it took a lot of desperation to make a Jem'Hadar argue with a God, that the risks such exposure would entail would be unacceptable given the current situation. The Founder had almost agreed with them, but the success of the proposed mission took paramount over his life, and only a Changeling could pull the mission off. And since no one suspected him, he could remain to continue sowing death, destruction and chaos in preparation to the Unity assault on this system.  
  
ISS Valley Forge, 8 minutes out from Starbase 2000  
  
Ulysses was pleased with the way his Battlegroup was coming together. The four Wraith (U)s of the Battlegroup, theMuteki, Thanatos, Kraken and Heidon were, after removing some rough edges, performing admirably in the squadron level sims. Their CO's had been recommended by T'var as being of agreeable mindset, and they were proving very useful in bringing most of the flotilla's escort commanders inline. Most Captains were able to recommend which CO's would be under them in their Battlegroups' command structure. Since Ulysses also had the Lion of Terra, his requests held more sway with the brass than your average Fleet Captain would have. But while his fellow superdreadnought squadronmates might be ones of his choosing, many of the Battlegroup's escorts were not. Although many were following the example of their Flag Captain, whose command style was backed up by stellar efficiency numbers, many were bound and determined to bring up their own sloppy numbers through violent means. While capital punishment for the Battlegroup as a whole was down considerably from Starfleet norm, on certain ships it was up by an astounding margin. One thing was certain, Commissar Stevens was surely taking detailed notes on all the comings and goings of his command. While she knew full well that he was more easygoing in the gratuitous punishment area than most officers in the fleet, she most certainly couldn't argue with the results his command style was bearing.  
  
At the very least, Starbase needed a strong hand right now. From all reports, the attack on the Eden Council Chamber had been a disaster. The current ranking officer for the entire sector was a very junior Commodore from Supply and Spare Requisition. Starfleet Command had sent word that replacement Sector Commander and other flag personnel had been sent, but they would be months away. Till they arrived, it looked like it would be up to a young Captain to whip the station into shape. Although he might not have traditional seniority, the Lion of Terra on his left breast gave him all the seniority he would need. Not that it would be easy, nor without a large amount of risk, but it was what needed to be done.  
  
"Coming up on Starbase 2000 Skipper." Demora interrupted his thoughts. Ulysses was about to reply when the significance of what she had said hit him. Crew were very particular of to whom the ancient honorific of Skipper was bestowed. It spoke volumes of the mutual trust that had been built up during the long weeks of travel. While Ulysses didn't spare any officer or crewmember corporal punishment when it was warranted, he never used it as a means to play his crew off of each other and never used it for minor infractions. While some crewmen initially used this less harsh regime to their benefit, they eventually brought a thorough punishment down upon themselves and became ostracized from the majority of their crewmates who were trying their darndest to give 110%.  
  
"Thank you helm." Ulysses replied warmly. "Slow to full impulse."  
  
"Aye Sir."   
  
The assembled warships with their minnow like escorts slowed from Slipstream. With the five upgraded Wraiths in an X formation in their center, 25 Achilles Destroyers, 25 Soulwolf Heavy Destroyers and two Aegean Fleet Support Destroyers rounded out the Valley Forge Battlegroup. The star flecked ebon black of normal space stretched out around them.  
  
"IIF interrogation coming in, automated system only." P'tel said with an arched eyebrow.  
  
"Automated only? Where's the duty watch officer?"   
  
"Unknown sir."  
  
"Open a channel."  
  
"Channel open."  
  
"Starbase 2000, this is Captain Vanguard of the Valley Forge, respond."  
  
There was a noticeable lag, and Ulysses was about to repeat his demand when the com screen finally blossomed to life. It showed a nonchalant young officer who looked irritated at having been disturbed.   
  
"Yah, yah, just pull up and dock wherever there is a free space." He flippantly replied, then the com channel closed. Ulysses eyes bulged. He knew things had deteriorated, but this was verging on the insane.  
  
"Sir, sensors indicate that there are a large number of independent merchant and pleasure craft docked to the Starbase proper!" Cmdr. Davenport said in a shocked tone.  
  
"What!" That WAS insane. No Starfleet facility permitted docking directly with their facilities. It was far too easy to have 'accidents' that crippled them that way. Ulysses shifted his holo display to tactical mode and like an orchestra conductor spun and zoomed the display so that the still distant weapons studded mushroom like shape of Starbase 2000 was clearly visible. Sure enough, there were a multitude of alien vessels docked to it's external ports. If even one of them induced their warp core to breach, the explosion would cause serious damage to the station before it could spool its shields up. Most of the system defense fleet was at anchor in geosync orbit near the Starbase, with only the bare minimum of patrols out. Ulysses shook his head in disbelief. From looking at the readiness of this base, you could never tell that the Empire was at war.  
  
"Alright, this is how we are going to play this. I want our full marine compliment in power armor ready by the time we dock. Order the rest of the Battlegroup to provide overwatch while the Forge docks. Once we are docked, I want..."  
  
Starbase 2000, 10 minutes later  
  
Ulysses strode into Ops with his command cloak billowing behind him. A plethora of alien species stared back at him or ignored him. There were only two dozen or in Starfleet black and silver, and they seemed to be in the middle of deals or drinks or both. The mood of Ops was more like a lounge than the nerve center for the entire systems defense. With a quick scan of the room, Ulysses found a likely suspect. He was a trim looking Command branch Captain well into middle age with a nasty looking scar on his cheek, and he seemed to be thoroughly engrossed in the two female aliens purring sweet nothings into his ears. Ulysses approached him directly and when he was standing directly in front of him, yet in the dim light it was hard to see him without activating his enhanced Borg vision. He put all the command snap into his voice that he could.   
  
"Are you in charge of this rabble?!" The Captain took a few seconds to acknowledge Ulysses presence, and behind him, Ulysses heard the room go silent at his cold demand.  
  
"I might be, what business is it of yours? I think that you better go back to your ship and stay there. You have no authority here little boy, and if you know what's good for you, you'll leave now." He said with an arrogant smile. Many had tried to take command of Starbase 2000 and make something out of it, but they had all succumbed to its rot eventually. And now with all other high ranking officers out of the way, Captain Styles was free to take charge of the station. His bailiwick might be a cesspool but it was by God HIS cesspool now and no uppity young snot was going to get his just deserts away from him. The young pup in front of him couldn't be any more than his early twenties. And if he couldn't be made to see reason, well then that was what he had the other personnel on the Ops deck for. They liked the recent changes in command and didn't have any desire to rock the boat. In fact, they had strong incentive to keep things as they were for as long as possible.  
  
"I asked you a question Captain and I expect an answer." Ulysses continued, and his voice was like liquid nitrogen. The room behind him had gone dead silent and more than a few of the aliens were making their way discreetly out of the room. Many others were looking on at the growing confrontation with eyes eager to see what happened next.  
  
A slight frown crossed Stiles' face. Couldn't this wet behind the ears pup take a hint. He was alone, yet not a hint of fear came from him. "I don't give a good God damn what you expect 'Captain'," Stiles put as much scorn into the title as humanly possible, "but since you can't take the hint..." Stiles pulled his phaser from its holster in a fluid motion that was over in an eye blink. From the soft scrapping sounds behind him and a few eager snickers, the rest of the Ops officers and enlisted personnel had pulled their own phasers as well. "Now unless you have an army squirreled away somewhere 'Captain', you better get out of here before you wind up in Sickbay... or the Morgue!"  
  
"Well I guess I can't argue with you Captain." Ulysses said in a meek and mild tone, putting on his best scared looking expression. "It's evident who has the upper hand here." Stiles' grin grew enormously as Ulysses cautiously backed away half a step. Then Ulysses half shadowed face flashed a clearly predatory smile. "Isn't it Gunny?"   
  
"Aye, It is indeed sir." A disembodied voice said from an empty space in Ops. Stiles grin disappeared instantly, as did those on the rest of the Ops staff. A split second later, 20 figures in full power armor rippled into sight as they decloaked around the Ops deck. All hefted grav guns filled with flechette rounds. And all were expert marksmen. At the spitting range of the Ops deck, if they fired things would get very messy very fast. 


	17. Chapter 14

Chapter Fourteen – Why You Don't Mess With a Fury  
  
Former Borg Space, Deep in the Delta Quadrant, Stalker Class SSS Moloch  
  
Frank and Victoria were deep in the link with their ship. The bond between Fury and their Stalker was far deeper than any normal starship and crew, for Furies possessed the ability to give commands by mere thought alone. The link was more like that between the Borg and their vessels than anything else yet encountered. When the link was active, the ship became an extension of them selves, responding to their will with the speed of thought. The sleek stiletto shaped ship dropped out of slipstream under phase cloak. The blue white supergiant star of the system they had slowed to survey hung brightly directly ahead of them. The two M Class worlds in the system were highlighted in the holo display. Both were already covered with vibrant ecosystems that were virtually identical to that of Terra's. Minor variations were included to promote genetic diversity, but the Genesis Effect was designed to not only remove all hostile opposition on a world but to terraform it so that it was easily colonizeable by follow on Imperial missions.  
  
Yet these reformatted, formerly Borg infested worlds had not been settled by follow on Imperial colonization expeditions. Borg space had been vast, removing Drone infestations had depleted the considerable stockpile of Genesis torpedoes the Empire had accumulated, creating a mind boggling number of virgin worlds ripe for colonization. While nearly every star that had a rocky world in the Alpha and Beta Quadrants had already been settled, many for centuries, there was always a demand for new worlds. The Empire had always pushed for large families to support the personnel demands of Starfleet, the Imperial Marine Corps and the Terran Empire Army, for there was always a fresh enemy to subdue before they could harm the Empire. That, combined with Genesis devices and the ability to alter the orbit of any solid planet around its parent star gave a plethora of inhabitable systems to work with. The Empires population base expanded rapidly, soon making humans the most populous race in the galaxy.  
  
But with the serious losses in both materiel, and more importantly, personnel during the Borg/Imperial war, all colonization plans were on indefinite hold while the Empire repopulated core systems and its depleted military. As a result, the multitudinous worlds that were once under Borg control had been left largely alone by the Empire. But while the Terrans and their allies were away, the minor powers of the Delta Quadrant were left free to exploit the new worlds left unoccupied. The Kazon Sects, the Krenim Imperium, the Ocampan Commonwealth, even the Talaxian Confederacy had begun to encroach on what was, by right of conquest, Terran Empire space.  
  
Frank supposed that since the Empire was not settling the area immediately, the local powers felt that they could trespass freely. And given the current situation with the Grand Alliance powers and Starfleet fleet strengths following the Borg/Imperial war, they would be free to do so for a while yet. There just weren't enough hulls to properly patrol all the territory that was rightly the Terran Empire's while still providing effective sector and border defense fleets. That would change soon because shipyards across the Empire had stepped up new hull production in the wake of the new GA threat. While most of the new construction was yet to become operational, many soon would.  
  
But all of that was secondary to the Fury Pair's assigned mission. The Emperor himself had ordered them to search for proof of trespass and already they had found a lot. The previous seven systems they had surveyed all were in the process of being settled by various Delta Quad powers. Emperor Chambers would not be pleased by what was going on out here, but that wasn't Frank and Victoria's concern. They would survey five more worlds, then turn back towards the distant star of Sol to deliver their report.  
  
Hirogen Hunting Party 2499  
  
Hirogen usually didn't take on contracts from others, preferring to choose their own prey. Yet the game offered to the party's Alpha Hunt Leader had been too tempting to walk away from. The being, claiming to be operating under the auspices of something called the Galactic Unity, had offered a true prize. Everyone in the Delta Quadrant knew of the great Terran Empire, slayers of the hated Borg. The being had offered a way to track the most elusive and deadly of their craft in exchange for all information on its tactics and all data that could be gleaned from its computers once the hunt was complete. What true hunter could give up the chance to bring down a near mythical Terran Empire Fury.  
  
The alien device that had been installed on the Alpha's bridge seemed to be working perfectly, for there was a faint blip on the panel while there was nothing at all on any of the other sensitive scanners his ship possessed. Now to test the other new system the GU operative had installed. With a few commands entered into the control panel, a quartet of small missiles spat from the box launcher mounted on his ships dorsal side. Seconds after they left their launch rails, they began to home in on the blip on the alien sensor system. The other five ships in his party launched their own quartets of tiny missiles. All that remained was to see if they did indeed scare their quarry from its hiding place in the thicket.  
  
Moloch  
  
The Fury Pair sensed the peculiarity at the same time. The six Hirogen vessels that had been flying a roughly parallel track to their own had launched four small missiles that had promptly swung to their general bearing. Despite their initial spike of emotion, they remained calm, for nothing could harm them while they were under phase cloak. Just the same, they began to execute an evasion routine that would bring them closer to the Hirogen vessels. Even though sensors were degraded while under phase cloak, a detailed scan could still be achieved on the Hunting Party once the range was low enough.   
  
The small missiles homed in on the general location of the Moloch as the lithe ship swung about to pass close to the Hirogen vessels. It was evident that all of the missiles would pass by them. Victoria ran through a level four diagnostic on the Phase Cloak subsystem in order to ensure that it was operating as it should. There had to be some explanation as to why the Hunting Party had apparently caught a sniff of them despite being under Phase Cloak. Four, eight, twelve of the small missiles passed by aimlessly. The final quartet was on course to pass nearby, but well outside all known effective warhead damage radii. The missiles were slipping by to starboard when the closest one's sensors caught the trail of the Moloch. Its miniaturized multiphaseic sensors had a hideously short range and weren't 100% reliable to maintain target lock even when provided with updates by similar shipboard systems. Yet all it took was one to maintain lock to execute their designed purpose. ISC scientists had not as yet been able to crack the ability to reliably and safely phase cloak their own warships, they had managed to come up with a weapons system that would negate the Terran Empire's advantage in this area.  
  
A proximity fused warhead detonated inside the missile, but it wasn't a normal destructive yield weapon. In fact, much of the miniscule force of the detonation disappeared into the multitiered chaos of Phase Cloak. The warhead had but one purpose, to overload an operating Phase Cloak and drag the vessel kicking and screaming back to normal space.  
  
A sound like arching electricity filled the Moloch and the ships computer instantly transmitted to its living crew that the Phase Cloak was no longer operational and that the ship was phasing back into normal space.  
  
Well, it looks like our routine patrol has just gotten considerably more interesting. Frank thought.  
  
It's your fault. You were the one who wanted some more action, well now you have it. Victoria thought back.  
  
Initiate combat mode. You got to be offense last time, it's my turn now. Frank's thoughts took on an eager overtone.  
  
Fine, go play with your guns, I'll keep us alive with the defensive systems.  
  
Both Furies slipped into combat mode, time seeming to slow as their internal pharmacopoeia pumped a plethora of drugs into their systems. Reaction times were accelerated, brain functions as well. Scarcely a second had passed since the ship began to reemerge into normal space, yet they had the armor, shields, weapons systems and electronic warfare systems fully online. On the holodisplay, the Hirogen vessels opened fire on the still nebulous Moloch as she began her evasion routine. Some people say that dog's can't smile, but there most certainly was a smile on Victoria's face as she deftly avoided all of the incoming fire, spinning and weaving between the onrushing beams and warheads. Although the energy weapons were traveling at C and the torpedoes near so, they appeared to move in slow motion from the Furies perspective. What should have been a crippling strike was totally ineffective.  
  
Hirogen Hunting Party 2499  
  
"You are indeed worthy prey!" The power armor clad Hirogen hunter smiled behind his helmet as the fleet prey craft in front of his ship nimbly spun through his flurry of phaser beams and torpedoes. Not a single one scored a hit, some beams passing within meters of the prey's hull, but never landing a hit. The ship was fully back in normal space now, bringing its weapons and shields online. It was easily the most maneuverable starship the Hirogen Alpha had ever encountered, and his sensors showed the reason. There were full impulse engines in place of a normal starships RCS. The stresses placed on the prey's hull must be enormous, but since it was rumored to be nearly solid, that would account for its staying together. "Order the rest of the party to decloak and launch the attack."  
  
The second jaw of the hunt decloaked from their concealed position on the far side of the nearest gas giant planet. Bringing their warp drives online as soon as they had a clear approach vector, they screamed foreword to join in the stalking of their prey.  
  
Moloch  
  
I grow tired of this senseless waste of time, initiate tactical attack mode. Frank thought. Victoria complied, deploying the Stalker class' primary armament from their concealed, armored positions. Six Phaser Lance Mk II's shot out from positions along the charcoal gray dabbled black knife like hull. It looked like the stiletto silhouette of the Moloch sprouted fangs. One of the newcomers scored a torpedo hit on them, causing a barely felt shudder to run through the ship.  
  
Shields holding. Victoria thought needlessly, for Frank knew instantly through his connection with the ship how much the shields went down.  
  
I'm taking him out first. Frank thought as he brought the fire control sensors to target the Hirogen vessel that had scored the lucky hit. With weapons fire streaming in from eight ships now, there was just to much to avoid it all, yet only the odd hit made it past Victoria's maneuvers. When you could damn near shift direction 90 degrees in a second, had the EW capability of a Battlecruiser and were the size of a Frigate, you were a damned small target.  
  
Hirogen Hunting Party 2499  
  
The prey seemed to be toying with them, sending only the odd burst of phaser fire and Quantum torpedo out from its powerful weapons arrays. Hirogen vessels were well armed and defended for their size, and were highly maneuverable for their mass class, but they had nothing on the Fury vessel. She threaded the needle with inhuman skill, allowing only ineffectual fire to hit her. It did nothing to bring down her powerful shields much. Then extra weapons emerged from their armored sheaths. Seconds after they were deployed, six amber red lances of energy erupted from them. Each hit a Hunter and with each hit, a Hunter died. Pieces of the formerly powerful craft pinwheeled away from each other as the insanely strong lances of energy stabbed through their shields and armored carapaces to cut them in half. Molten splinters of what had been armor and bulkhead along with the normal debris jettisoned by explosive decompression filled space.  
  
The prey had turned and shown that it was a hunter all along. The Hirogen Alpha had barely opened his mouth to order the retreat when the Moloch spun around and fired again, vaporizing the remaining Hunters in brilliant, star bright funeral pyres. Hirogen Hunting Party 2499 was no more than a debris field.  
  
Moloch  
  
Like a cat toying with a mouse, the Furies savored their prey's rapidly growing terror, drinking their emotions like a fine wine. But to long a pause, even in combat mode, would give an advantage to the enemy. With something akin to regret, the second wave of Phaser Lance fire spat out, cutting deep into the remaining Hirogen vessels. The terror was cut off as the Hirogen hunters were vaporized along with large portions of their ships.   
  
Secure from tactical attack and combat modes.  
  
Sensors show a Talaxian patrol is leaving station in the inner system to investigate. We should leave before they get here. Victoria's placated, bliss filled after battle thoughts filled Franks head through their telepathic bond. The holodisplay showed the still splintering Hirogen vessels breaking apart with exquisite slowness.  
  
First grab one of those missiles they used to bring us out of phase cloak. The Emperor will want to look at them for sure. Then engage standard cloak and bring the slipstream core online, set a course for Sector One.  
  
The Moloch slipped behind one of the still cruising missiles, scanning it with her powerful sensor array. She was nearly in range for transport when all remaining missiles self destructed.  
  
ISCV Warrior's Bane   
  
"It is a good thing you put self destruct mechanisms onto the new warheads." The captain told his chief engineer. "We now have proof that they will work against Imperial vessels, which was the entire point of this exercise. We also have the added benefit of seeing a Stalker in action. It is good that the Imperials don't have very many of them, for they will prove difficult when encountered in combat."  
  
"The Stalker has engaged her cloak and is leaving sensor range Sir."  
  
"Understood, lay in a course for ISC space. I have an after action report to prepare for Command. If you need me, I will be in my ready room."  
  
The cloaked Interstellar Concordium Battlecruiser swung about and engaged her warp drive. It was a short hop to the nearest subspace corridor, and from there it would be only a week long trip to friendly borders. 


	18. Chapter 15

Chapter Fifteen – Downtime  
  
VF-117, Capt. Vic McDermott's Fighter  
  
Vic's Cobra spun through a viciously tight turn, the whine of the straining impulse thrusters barely covering the creaks and groans given off by of his fighter's hull. The substantial fist of inertia caused by hairpin turns at 70 PSL incessantly pushed him deeper into his acceleration couch in spite of the fighter's powerful internal dampers. He was sweating in spite of his suits environmental systems best efforts, for he had been fighting inertia for close to three hours straight now. His Cobra pulled up behind his quarry, the narrow arch of his primary weapons coming to bear at last. He let lose a burst of quad Pulse Phaser bolts. Vic's dogged persistence was rewarded as the Romulan Fighter/Bomber flew right threw his spray of high powered energy. The Kestrel's shields flared and died and the amber bolts of his weapons mangled its impulse engines. But it was only the onboard computer of his fighter that alerted him to his successful intercept. In a modern battlefield, for something as fragile as a fighter, speed was life. Hit and fade, never loiter in the same area very long, always stay in motion, these were the staples of a fighter jock's life. But even if you followed these rules, you were still likely to wind up atomized. VF-5003 found that out the hard way. Their evasive maneuvers brought them into the deadly ground between the capital ships laying into each other. Phaser and disrupter beams with quantum and plasma torpedoes crisscrossed space, forming a deadly lattice of interwoven energy, plowing molten furrows in the massive ablative armor hides of their targets. Vic spared a wince as VF-5003 died in rapid secession, their fragile craft turned unintentionally to atoms by the enormous energies being exchanged between the capital ships.  
  
"Form up Double D's." Vic said into VF-117 "Dirty Devils'" group channel. VF-117 had been reformed around the handful of survivors from the ill fated attack on Species 8472 as well as new faces added while Athena underwent repairs. In that time, all of 2nd Fleet's destroyed fighters had been replaced, bringing them back up to combat ready levels.  
  
"Two" Cmdr. Jessica Evron, the wing's second in command commed.  
  
"Three." Lt. Jordan Beauregard said.  
  
"Four." Lt. Bernice Chivers acknowledged.   
  
"Five." Lt. Quincy Jefferies, the final pilot in the reconstituted VF-117, commed.  
  
The other Cobras settled in around his one by one, then, following the datalinked signals from Vic's fighter, vectored in on the newest approaching wave of Romulan fighters. The Romulans were nearly close enough to volley their loads of plasma torps when Vic's wing pounced on them. Slicing in from multiple vectors, they descended upon the enemy like the birds of prey they were. VF-117 had drawn CSP duty, so their fighters had been outfitted in Space Superiority mode. Phalanx torpedoes spat from their small launchers, creating a snowstorm of warheads in front of the Cobras. After each fighter volleyed its initial salvo, they broke off at oblique angles. The Romulan Kestrel's EW did its best, but it couldn't spoof all of the warheads. Shields flared, blotted out of existence as the micro quantums struck home. Armor boiled away, external torpedoes detonated as the plasma sustainer field within them was breached, the entire enemy wing was gutted. Vic had trained his pilots mercilessly since he had been promoted to squadron CO, and it showed. He knew full well that being a pilot was the most dangerous assignment in the Empire, having seen nearly all of his fellow pilots blown away in a scant few seconds. If extra training gave his pilots an edge in future combat, he was more than willing to listen to some grousing.  
  
"New Target bearing 284 mark 059." The SWAC controller onboard Athena said. The connection was slightly distorted by the massive electronic warfare battle being waged between the Monitor and the Romulan fleet, yet was still easily understood. The secure datalink between the "Dirty Devils" and the ship that they were out here to protect updated Vic's holo display to highlight their new targets, an enemy wing trying to slip in under cloak with the roaring chaos of the battle to help keep them hidden. It'll take more than that to spoof the sensors on the Athena.  
  
"Roger Control. VF-117 vectoring in on designated targets." The mountain of alloy that was the Bastion Class Monitor Athena swung into view on the bubble canopy of Vic's fighter as he maneuvered to the appropriate approach bearing. Even as far away as he was, the mammoth warship was visible with the unaided eye if slightly distorted due to its high PSL drive away from her attackers. Deadly green hued beams and torpedoes chased after her as 23 beaked nosed D'deridexes and their escorts tried to bring her down in a stern chase. Her shields had already burned away across many sections, but her massive armor, though pitted and glowing in many places, was holding the storm at bay. As he watched, the Athena's phaser arrays and quantum turrets spat hellfire back at her attackers. Like the mythic huntress that was her namesake, measured and carefully choreographed fire stalked individual Romulan ships, burning lighter ones from space while hammering shield arcs flat on the larger ones others.   
  
Then without warning, the arrow shaped bulk of the Athena flared star bright for a fraction of a second before Vic's fighter's onboard computer blotted out the terrible light. Slowly it faded, and through his canopy Vic saw his home torn into molten fragments, some the size of whole Battlecruisers.  
  
"Son of a Bitch!" Vic swore softly as his fist slammed down on his right knee. Someone was gonna catch hell for that. He reached up and cracked the seal on his flightsuit's helmet, pulling it off and setting it in his lap. The panorama of space overhead rippled and dissipated, replaced with the rainbow hued, thatch pattern metal walls of the sim deck. Granted the sim's initial suppositions weren't that fair, for how often would the Athena be alone, relying on only her own considerable firepower and her fighters for her survival? Still, everything was going fine till something went horribly wrong.   
  
The stony faced Vulcan that was mistress of all of Second Fleet approached the daises that had appeared before the staggered ranks of fighter sim modules. Letting her eyes roam across and up the 5000 vertically stacked ranks of modules, she spoke. Her voice carried across the large compartment as if she was standing right next to each pilot.  
  
"By the large, you have performed well, but there is still quite some room for improvement." Above her precise Vulcan head of hair and pointed ears, a rotating tactical holo of the simmed battle burst forth. With a few commands entered into the PADD in front of her, the battle quickly fast-forwarded to the spot she desired. Every pilot in the compartment looked on to see just who was responsible for the simulated destruction of their mothership. The tactical holo labeled seven offending wings of Cobras, all operating in close proximity to each other. "A case in point will now be highlighted. Instead of immediately executing the targeting instructions issued by CIC, Fighter Wings 3300, 23, 9921, 445, 713, 8394, and 102 stopped to engage targets of opportunity. As a result, ISS Athena, NCC - 400004 was completely destroyed with the loss of all hands. Instead of attacking a squadron of Shadows that were getting a bearing on our weakened port shield section six, they chose to jump a squadron of Shrikes that were already engaged by CSP wings. Instead of being part of the choreographed weapons fireplan, their failure to follow orders resulted in a lack of firepower tasked to destroy or disable the Shadows. These wings were the only ones outfitted for standoff attack that still had full or near full torpedo loads. Without their added firepower, the Romulan Battlecruisers survived to close to Mauler range and attacked our downed shield section, breaching the armor and hitting the internal heavy torpedo magazine. The explosion of that alone wouldn't be enough to hurt us terribly, but at the same time, as weapons were retasked to make up the shortfall caused by the errant fighter squadrons, they left other targets relatively unscathed. That allowed the other threats to gain range and hit us on other weakened shield sections. The combined firepower from so many directions overwhelmed our weakened defenses.  
  
"I cannot stress enough that in a battle like the one we just simmed, you need to follow the commands given to you by CIC controllers. We need to choreograph our fire in order to ensure that attacks are applied evenly to those targets that need to be targeted. You don't have enough information in your cockpits to determine this. We will restart the sim from the beginning and this time see if we can do it right." She never raised her voice above conversational levels, but it was like a bucket of ice water to the assembled pilots, especially those who had been responsible for the screw up. No one dared complain when Fleet Admiral T'var ordered another hours long session in the sim chamber. Although another stint in the over active deep tissue massage of the sim chamber was the last thing any of them wanted to do, they obeyed. They knew as much as she did that they still had edges to clean up before they were an effective instrument of death. They were willing to put up with the minor nuisance of extra sim time if it meant that they stood a better chance of living in a real battle. Vic re-donned his helmet as a hologram of Athena's primary catapult tube formed around him.  
  
Terra Orbit, San Francisco Memorial Yards, Observation Deck, 3 hours 45 minutes later  
  
"Well that one went much better, don't you agree Ma'am?" T'var's aide said after the second sim was completed.  
  
"Indeed, they followed instructions admirably the second time, although I think that Admiral Bartlett wasn't in top form directing the Romulan fleet the second time through. There were a few times where his forces could have crippled us but missed the opportunity." T'var gazed out through the transparent aluminum dome as the final repairs were nearing completion on her flagship. The hastily patched rents in her armored carapace were nearly sealed now, and all internal damage was totally repaired. It would only be a day or two before the yards would finally set her free to once again act as the centerpiece of the reformed and expanded 2nd Fleet, but it was still not decided where 2nd Fleet would head for. Starfleet Command had been trying to puzzle that out for months now, and still couldn't come up with a decent decision. Attacking any one member of the Grand Alliance would bring the others to its aid. And even with a fully mobilized 2nd Fleet, the Empire would need more than that to try and retake core enemy systems. Fleet strength was building up, but it would be another year or two before a realistic offensive could begin that didn't strip Imperial systems bare of defence. If all the Empire wanted to do was destroy enemy worlds, that would be far easier to accomplish with current fleet levels, but the Emperor wanted nothing less than retaking all the systems lost to the Grad Alliance powers. In a peculiar way, this was better, for it prevented T'var from making a choice she hoped never to make. If she was ordered to destroy a world, she knew she couldn't do it. It went against everything she believed in. Even if they are the enemies of the Empire, was it not the Empire's treatment of them that caused them to lash out? Were the situations reversed, wouldn't Terrans and even Vulcans lash out against their oppressors? Behind her emotionless Vulcan mask, T'var pondered what might be, both Spock's utopian vision and much darker ones.  
  
The Terran Empire had always taken the approach that alien species needed to be gauged as to the threat they posed to the Empire, then dealt with accordingly. That was the reason that the Empire was always at war, it saw hostile empires as threats to its very survival and destroyed them to prevent that action. Some, like the Borg, deserved to be extinguished, for they posed a clear and present threat to the Terran Empire. Others, like the Grand Alliance powers, weren't as black and white. In their time, they had proven a dangerous foe, but they had never initiated open war. The Empire had done that, not even considering making the attempt to live along side them, instead choosing to exterminate, conquer and enslave. It had been fear that had driven the early Empire to go to war, fear that they would attack you first and you would loose. While there was some logic to attacking your enemy before he could attack you, there was even more logic in trying to live peacefully with them. If Spock's vision of a powerful governing body, encompassing many species on equal footing was achievable, wouldn't that be more a logical path than that of constant conflict? And what did that say about those who chose to serve in the ranks of its warriors? Were they evil because they served the will of their political masters without question?  
  
Of that she did have an answer. Some were indeed beings of darkness, reveling in the pain and suffering of others, but by and large those in the Empire's armed forces were people defending their homes from what they thought were threats. It was the Empire's leaders that had shifted from self preservation to conquest, still feeding the people propaganda that species like the Cardassians and Ferengi were threats to the Terran Empire. There had to be some way to make the general population of the Empire see that not every alien species was a threat, but for the life of her, T'var couldn't see it. The belief had been held for to many generations to be easily changed. But there had to be a way, and T'var was determined that she would find it. 


	19. Chapter 16

Chapter Sixteen - Consolidation  
  
Starbase 2000, Delta Quadrant, Ops Deck  
  
Captain Stiles eyes went wide as he took in the hulking shapes of Imperial Marines in powered combat armor, yet to his credit his phaser never so much as twitched. Ulysses predatory grin never left his face as he began to speak again.  
  
"Go ahead." He spoke quietly, but his voice was loud in the deathly silence that gripped Ops. "Give them an excuse." Ulysses stepped foreword till the tip of Stiles' phaser was pressed into his chest. Stiles stared dumbstruck at the urging in the Imperial Captain's voice and actions.  
  
"But if they open fire, you'll be cut down with the rest of us."  
  
"Small price to pay to have you and your ilk dealt with expediently." Ulysses replied in a tone that could have cut through a dutranium bulkhead. Stiles visibly flinched. He could see it in the young firebrand's eyes that he was perfectly willing to make good on his statement. "You swore an oath to protect the people of the Empire, and by your actions you have BROKEN that sacred trust! Over five BILLION souls are depending on this Battle Station and the Fleet to protect them from a hostile galaxy! As it now sits, this station couldn't fight its way out of a wet paper bag. So I say again, give them an excuse." Ulysses voice had reverted to a neutral tone, but there was no mistaking the look in his eyes. Stiles resolve failed him. Looking at the Captain's face, it was like a house cat meeting a lion in search of a snack.  
  
Of all things, this was the least he expected from someone assigned to Starbase 2000. He had seen plenty of officers willing to sacrifice themselves for the false ideals of honor. Yet most of those who were assigned here were quickly exorcised of it. This young officer was different. Something in the way he carried himself, something in his voice, said that he would never lose that ideal. It was to much part of what he was for it to be removed by a mere assignment to Starfleet's latest dumping ground for troublemakers.  
  
Stiles lowered his phaser, then dropped it to the deck. From the sounds all around him, his compatriots were following his lead and doing likewise. Ulysses stepped foreword, bringing his face fully into the light, and what Stiles saw caused him to shrink back in fear. There was death dancing in the young firebrand's eyes, a predatory gleam that had no place on a humans face. Yet it was gone in an eyeblink as Ulysses brought himself back under iron willed self-control.  
  
"Take them to the brig, hold them there till a formal courts martial can be convened to look into their recent actions." Ulysses snapped.  
  
"Aye Sir." With a gesture of his grav gun, Gunny McKennon got the jackals in motion. "You heard the Skipper, get your mangy carcasses moving! And if there is any funny business on the way there, well I don't need to explain to you what a round of hypervelocity flechettes will do to you."  
  
----------  
  
They had just finished clearing out when a breathless Commissar Stevens huffed into Ops, her fists balled angrily at her sides. "Captain, just what the HELL do you think you are doing!"  
  
"A bit of house cleaning." Ulysses replied tersely.  
  
"With fully decked out Marines!?" She said, her hand waving towards the retreating figures in power armor.  
  
"And not just here, I sent them out across the entire station." Ulysses continued.  
  
Stevens eyes went round as saucers. "The entire station..."  
  
"Yes, the entire station. Lord knows how far down the rot he brought here has spread. I would rather have people I can trust spread throughout the station keeping an eye on things.  
  
"But that would take damn near the entire Marine compliment of the whole Battlegroup!" She exploded.  
  
"Yes it indeed would, for this is a rather large Battlestation after all."  
  
Stevens prepared to launch into another angry tirade then stopped herself. She could tell that it wouldn't faze him in the slightest and she couldn't really call him to task for enforcing Starfleet regs, even if it was in a place like Starbase 2000. While the devotion he was inspiring in both his command and the rest of the battlegroup as a whole was disturbing on any number of levels, she had to admit that everything he was doing was well within the regs. It still caused her to be suspicious, for everyone knew that it was a power hungry Admiral who had allowed nearly all of the Empire's government to be murdered. If this young, charismatic officer chose to turn his loyalties from the Empire, there could be trouble. It wouldn't do for her to totally alienate herself from him so early over something as trivial as what had just transpired. True he was supposed to clear all military actions with her ahead of time, but now that she thought about it this was more of a disciplinary action than anything else. Breath escaped from between her lips as she exhaled heavily.  
  
"You don't do things by half measures do you Mr. Vanguard?" Stevens put a slight grin on her face and a parental tone in her voice. Ulysses wasn't fooled for a minute, yet he played along.  
  
"Half measures are worse than useless, because they can lead one to think that one is secure when one really isn't. Which is exactly why I never use them. The galaxy is to dangerous a place for false security." Ulysses sighed. "This place needs leadership, right now it's like a ship with a broken rudder. Will you back me in my plan to assume control of this sector till Starfleet can dispatch someone with proper rank and seniority?" Much as it irked Ulysses to come begging to the Section 31 stoolie, he knew that it was the best way to guarantee getting competent leadership for this sector, at least until Starfleet Command sent the next self serving Flag officer to this backwater.  
  
Stevens gave the young captain an appraising stare. The rampant golden lion glittered on his breast, nestled next to a rather impressive series of medals for one so young. She totally misread his eagerness to assume command of the decapitated command structure the sector had been saddled with. Without a doubt someone had to take charge, and if her evidently eager charge wanted to take on the responsibility there were not that many others in the sector that had the seniority to challenge him. Add to that there was a personal factor as well. While she distrusted the young captain's motives as a matter of course, there was a certain prestige gained from being assigned as the political watchdog to a Sector CO, even if he still was a captain. The fact that there never had been a mere captain, even one in possession of the Lion of Terra, in command of an entire sector was unheard of. Of course having the entire Flag Rank Chain of Command eliminated at one time was also unheard of, so having an unheard of solution to the problem wasn't all that unexpected.  
  
"Very well Mr. Vanguard, I agree that this sector needs some form of leadership until Starfleet can send some more Brass out here. I see no reason why that temporary leadership shouldn't be you. I will back your proposal to Starfleet Command."  
  
"Thank you Commissar, you will not regret your decision."  
  
"I never doubted it for a minute."  
  
Imperial Throne Room, Moscow, Terra  
  
Jack silently cursed his poor luck. First the entire upper echelons of Sector 2000's chain of command get taken out by a still unknown operative, then that young pup he had sent out there to be out of the public eye decides that he needs to assume command. While that choice was the right one from a purely military stand point, it put a real wrench into the works of his own plans. It seemed like no matter how hard he tried to divert attention from this new 'Hero of the Empire', he found a way to keep it firmly centered upon him. His right hand curled into a hidden white knuckled fist under his space black silk cloak. All of his propaganda plans would have to be reworked. He would be forced to cast even more attention at Captain Vanguard. It couldn't be helped, but it was irritating that the young officer had such an unintentional magnetism for the public eye.  
  
"Send my approval of Captain Vanguard's actions to Starfleet Command. Make sure that they dispatch a full compliment of flag officers as soon as possible. While the young Captain Vanguard and his staff are highly capable, they are not senior enough to be left in charge of an entire sector for an extended period of time. Till the replacement officers and their staffs arrive however, he is temporarily promoted to Vice Admiral to give his assumed authority the proper backing of rank."  
  
"I shall contact Starfleet Command with your words immediately Your Highness." A low level aide said, bowing lowly then turning on his heel and striding out of the throne room.  
  
Briefing Room, ISS Athena, Later that day  
  
"...and that's the extent of it people." Ulysses explained to his command staff. "I have been affirmed as CO of this sector by both Starfleet Command and the Emperor himself, at least until proper official bureaucrats can be dispatched. But I needn't tell any of you that they will be at least a month in coming due to the distances involved even if they leave immediately. So first things first, you've had a chance to peruse your various departments at a trans sector level. What are the good and bad points. Exec, why don't you start us off."  
  
"Sir, the command situation is every bit as ripped up as I initially thought. Not only is every flag officer in the sector dead, but much of the bureaucracy was also destroyed when the Sector Council Chamber was blown up. We have Captains and Commanders flailing around in the domain of Admirals and Vice Admirals and it shows. For the most part, they don't have the experience necessary to effectively accomplish their unexpected duties." Ulysses grimaced. If he couldn't put together an effective chain of command, however temporarily, things would go from bad to worse. Seeing her Captain's sour face, P'tel continued. "All is not lost however, for there are quite a few officers that have risen admirably to their new duties. They should prove sufficient to provide a rudimentary chain of command at the very least."  
  
"Ok, write up a list of the good ones for my perusal. Also do a list of the real trouble makers we'll have to keep an eye on." P'tel nodded. Ulysses eyes moved on to his Chief Engineer. "How's the fleet wide readiness status Commander?"  
  
"It's not as high as I would like at all Skip. From my calls to various BG Flagship Chief Engineers, many are in dire need of yard maintenance, but there are only a few slips at Nightingale Yards that are as active. It appears that many of the yard crews were shirking their duties long before the Brass was killed. It's gotten even worse since. On a more positive note the cleanup dirtside is nearly finished." It was a weak positive in light of the initial negative, and Heidberg knew it as much as his Captain did.  
  
"This cannot continue. I want every ship in the fleet brought up to full combat readiness within the week. Sorry to add to your already full plate Exec, but I want you to coordinate with Cmdr. Heidberg. Get those yards up to speed, and use any amount of force that's required if they don't take the hint that things are gonna undergo a radical change." P'tel could tell that he found the probable use of force to cohere the yard crews to bring their productivity up to fleet standard distasteful. Yet it was good to know for certain that he wasn't naive enough to think that it wouldn't be required in more than a few cases. That was a matter of course at this post, it had been Starfleet's dumping ground for to long for it to be otherwise.  
  
"Aye Sir." P'tel bore her geometrically expanding workload with typical Vulcan stoicness.  
  
"Cmdr. Davenport, I want your department to coordinate a fleet wide wargame set for before the end of the week. I need to know how much rust we need to remove from our sword before it's an effective weapon again. If any ship Captains give you grief, contact me immediately."  
  
"Aye Skipper, you can count on me."  
  
"I had no doubts otherwise Cmdr." Ulysses graced his tactical officer with a small grin, then turned to his CMO. "Cmdr. Petersmith, what's the situation dirtside?"  
  
"Its a lot better than I thought sir. The blast was pretty much contained by the Council Chambers. While nearly everyone in the building died, there was mostly only light injuries outside. There really isn't that much more that I can do. Lilith has the same healthcare capabilities of any core world. Most of those affected by the explosion have already been released from the local hospitals with only a few critical cases still there. They are in good hands, my people would only be in the way."  
  
Ulysses nodded his understanding. "All right Doctor, thank you. Any questions before we adjourn?" No one made any attempt to speak. "Ok then, we have a lot of work ahead of us, so lets get cracking." 


	20. Chapter 17

Chapter Seventeen - The Tip of The Lance  
  
ISS Voyager  
  
Cavit's wounded ship came to another juncture in the subspace corridor network. They had been going deeper and deeper into the unmapped routes, forced away from charted lanes by converging ISC and Dominion Forces. They were, in essence lost in space with virtually no idea where these tunnels would lead to.  
  
"Steady Mr. Tuvok. Make this separation just as cleanly as the last one and we'll be down to one tag along." Scott told his Chief Tactical officer.  
  
"Coming up on the transfer point." Harry Kim said stonily from his post.  
  
"Now Mr. Tuvok." Cavit ordered.  
  
"Launching EW drone now, aye Sir." The Vulcan's unflappably calm voice replied. The drone brought its impulse engines online as it cleared the launch tube and swung away from Voyager, taking one branch of the corridor while it's mother ship took the other. To an outside observer, it looked like the Imperial Intrepid class underwent mitosis, both visually and on sensors, with both giving of exactly the same readings. Behind them, the slowly gaining ISC Destroyers were forced to split, one following the near perfect mimic, the other remaining with their true quarry. Although the ISC's edge in speed was slight, it was undeniably there. It was pure luck that kept the initial waves of pursuers from following them. They had spoofed first one, then another of the Battlecruisers away using EW drones sent down branches of the corridor network. The last one had nearly been in phaser range when the corridor branched yet again. With an usual portion of luck, the ISC ship had followed the EW drone instead of Voyager, leaving the Imperial vessel temporarily alone in its flight. All to soon though, new pursuers were detected coming down nearly every adjoining branch of the network. The few that picked up and followed Cavit's trail had also been fooled into tracking drones, and Voyager's seemingly blessed state continued. The latest ships to have picked up their trail had just been divided. It was now time to conquer.  
  
"Wait till they are out of com range of their friend, then blow them out of the stars."  
  
Time seemed to slow as everyone waited till they could attack without worry of the Destroyer's compatriot finding out about it immediately. After a seeming eternity, it was time. Voyager cut her drives and swung around through the vertical, letting inertia maintain her foreword velocity. Although she would eventually loose her original vector's velocity due to the interaction of the subspace corridor, the maneuvers allowed her to bring her most powerful weapons arch to bear on her pursuer. The range began to drop sharply, and a message drone spat out of the ISC ship's aft tube. It was truly fortunate that this particular design had no PPD as part of its weapons load out, lest Cavit's crippled command would have been disabled far short of her own effective attack range.  
  
This ISC ship was a fire support ship, a long range archer that helped bring down wounded capital ships or hunted lesser vessels at a distance. But although its target was wounded, her combat capability was only lessened slightly. Even if it was an ISC Destroyer, and even against a crippled Imperial Heavy Cruiser, a Destroyer/Heavy Cruiser battle still favored the Heavy Cruiser by a wide margin. Plasma warheads had a higher yield than their quantum brethren, but their range was shorter, allowing Cavit to score first. Steady streams of blue white spheroids spat from the twin foreword launchers mounted in Voyager's secondary hull, crossing the angry void to ravage the ISC's shields. The Concordium Destroyer closed to its own torpedo range and both ships opened up on each other. Plasma and quantum torpedoes flashed through the swirling vortex of the corridor, flaring and dieing against shields. The distance fell to energy weapons range and the true disparity between the combatants became clear. Whereas the ISC ship had heavy, long ranged torpedo volleys, it sacrificed phaser capacity to get it. In an energy range knife fight, it was hopelessly outclassed by the heavy phaser arrays its Imperial opponent carried. Heavy Plasma strikes were followed up by phasers, but they only brought Voyager's shields down and began hammering at her armored carapace. Cavit, on the other hand, rained overpowering phaser strikes down on the smaller enemy, punching through their shields almost at will, turning the Destroyer's outer hull into a white hot mass of molten alloy. A brace of quantums and a stiletto of phaser energy finally found the small ships warp core, shattering the remnants of the Destroyer, sending them pin wheeling apart trailing plasma flame.  
  
"Good shot Mr. Tuvok."  
  
"Naturally Captain."  
  
"Mr. Paris, get us going again. Mr. Kim, get coordinate damage control teams. I want our latest damage totally repaired before we meet up with another ISC or Dominion patrol."  
  
"Captain, sensors show that the corridor ahead of us is becoming clogged with debris. There are a lot of starship pieces out there, and they're old." Tom Parris said from his station. The main viewer showed the tale as well.  
  
"Gods, there was a war fought in here." Cavit murmured as Tom began to thread his way through the remnants of starships.  
  
"Designs and materials are from an as yet undocumented set of species." Tuvok supplied.  
  
"Sir, we are coming up on another junction. One leads out of the network and into normal space, the other continues on." Kim said.  
  
"Ok, we need to put down somewhere and make repairs. Since we have no pursuers to see us, this looks like the best time we have. Gives us a chance to find out just where we are as well. Make for the terminus Mr. Paris."  
  
Voyager emerged from the subspace corridor network near a star system.  
  
"There is a planet in this system that should hide us from sensors while we make repairs Captain." Harry told his commander. "It looks like the planet underwent a very limited orbital bombardment a few thousand years ago, just enough to destroy all the major cities and infrastructure and wreck the biosphere. The surface is still largely intact, with little to no glassing or penetration to the planets mantle." Lt. Kim smiled slightly as he continued. "Best of all, there are high concentrations of scanner scattering radiation present in its upper atmosphere. They should be sufficient to nearly completely mask our presence."  
  
"That's the best news I have heard in a while. Launch the last EW drone on a course for the nearest termini. If our luck holds, it will draw off any pursuers that followed our trail here. Mr. Paris, reconfigure for atmospheric flight and take us down to a suitable landing site, preferably inside what was once a city."  
  
Cavit set his command down near the center of what had once been a bustling metropolis. Although it paled next to the giant man made forests of alloy that were the major cities of Imperial Core worlds, it was still an impressive city even if it was only abandoned, poisoned ruins. The repairs went on for days, with the massive hull breach in Voyager's foreword saucer becoming largely patched and various other assorted wounds healed thanks to her engineering crew's ministrations. It was on the fourth day that faint readings were detected. They came not from space, as was expected, but from the very ground beneath Voyager herself.  
  
  
  
"Would you look at that." the security officer assigned to the team that was searching out the anomalous power source murmured. Before him and the rest of the team stretched row after row of stasis pods, each housing an individual of a previously unknown alien species. In an adjoining room, there was a series of antiquated Frigates. Though their technology was several thousand years out of date, it was still close to a current day pirate's armament. It was a true testament to this species that it had the foresight to attempt to preserve itself even as its homeworld was destroyed from orbit.  
  
"Captain," The squad leader commed, "the power source appears to be a geothermal core tap, it's powering a series of stasis pods, each containing an alien. Preliminary analysis of their equipment indicates that they are the same race that built most of the debris we found in the nearby subspace corridors.  
  
"If their vessels were indeed engaging in combat inside the corridor network, they must have knowledge of their routes. I recommend that we revive one of the aliens to question him for this information Captain. It is possible that he may know a way back to plotted corridor lanes that we do not." Tuvok interjected. Cavit mulled over the recommendation for a few seconds, then spoke.  
  
"Do it Lieutenant."  
  
ISS Valley Forge, Two weeks later  
  
Preparations had advanced with relative ease, far more easily than Ulysses had dared hope that is. After a few carefully selected examples had been made, the other hard cases and their followers had fallen more or less in line. True there was still more corporal punishment being doled out than he would like in an ideal universe, Starbase 200 was far from that ideal. Too many of these officers and enlisted personnel only knew how to behave under the crawling pain of an agonizer, never being taught another way. Ulysses wasn't naïve enough to believe that most of them would ever learn otherwise.  
  
The civilians on Lilith were exactly the opposite. They were skeptical at first, for after a seemingly unending series of obviously worthless officers that had been foisted upon them, they had every right to be jaded. But officers and enlisted from the Valley Forge Battlegroup made the rounds at local bars, eateries and holosuites, and they did much to further Ulysses image. For unlike your normal bunch of sailors on leave, they were far more courteous and generally pleasant to be around. Not that they didn't raise their fair share of ruckus once they got inebriated on the local brand of home brew, but taken on the whole they were far better than what Lilithians were used to. This, combined with the perplexed reverence the officers and enlisted personnel all seemed to hold their CO with finally convinced the civilians, and word spread like wild fire. Upon learning that responsible and just leadership had fallen into their laps for the first time in many years, they held a planet wide celebration. The citizens went out of their way to accommodate any changes that "Skipper" Vanguard chose to make.  
  
The Fleet units in Lilith orbit, while powerful on paper, had experienced a considerable degradation of the combat skills thanks to Command sponsored inactivity. They were just now coming up to a level that Ulysses liked, but still had room for improvement. The most important thing was that many of their commanders had begun copying Ulysses command style where applicable. They weren't stupid, for they knew that giving their crews freer reign than was normal wasn't a paying proposition for all circumstances, but they were trying as much as possible.  
  
They Nightingale shipyards had been whipped into shape by the combined energies of Chief Engineer Heidberg and P'tel. All pending repairs had been cleared in record time with no degradation in work quality. Refit schedules were drawn up, with the oldest ships placed at the head of the line to receive upgrades to make them combat effective. While still a powerful Fleet, 7895th Fleet had been raided fairly heavily after the end of the Borg/Imperial war. Her heavy forces were close to full strength, namely a mixture of mostly first batch Wraiths that survived the Imperial/Borg war with a handful of new Wraith (R)'s as squadron flagships. Her lighter screening elements were another story, being most often under strength and of older designs largely removed from frontline service. Using his recently gained powers, Ulysses ordered a series of special upgrades to be started to some of the oldest vessels in his improving fleet. The old Excelsiors were receiving some of the most significant upgrades, allowing the venerable designs to compete with modern designs that will likely be arrayed against them.  
  
Ulysses wasn't sure what was driving him to temper his new fleet into a weapon with such force. All he knew was that he had a bad feeling that had been growing since he had arrived at Prescott's Star. Something big was in the works, something bad. And he had a sinking suspicion that it would land in his lap.  
  
Eden City, Lilith  
  
No, no, NO!!!! All of my plans are in ruins and all because of one sniveling solid!  
  
Unity Operative 11J was not a happy changeling. Of all the unforeseen obstacles to his plan, the one he had never expected was having a competent leader step foreword and assume command of the Sector. The Galactic Unity would attack soon, and many of his assigned objectives had yet to be realized. If anything, his initial success had turned to ashes, because this young upstart had forged them in the few short weeks he had been in command, into a dangerous foe, one preparing for trouble instead of causing it. Instead of inept and incompetent leadership, it now had relatively inexperienced commanders but ones that were learning how to do their jobs right.  
  
Ground side security had been tightened considerably, and he no longer had access to restricted areas thanks to the renewed anti-changeling detection methods. Passwords could be obtained, medical scans passed thanks to his mastery of mimicry, but DNA analysis of samples removed from his body, namely blood, was not so easily forged. True he could store a solids blood and release it into the waiting hypo as required, but keeping it fresh was something else. Scans would be able to tell if the blood was fresh or not, and if it came up false all would be lost. There was one mission he could yet achieve, although his likelihood of survival afterward was practically nil. It was unfortunate but not unexpected. His blow would allow the Galactic Unity to more easily assume dominion over this sector. The solids would be taught the proper respect for their superiors. In the hiding shroud of a shadow filled alleyway, the changeling switched personas, assuming the identity of a Starbase 2000 crewman. 


	21. Chapter 18

Chapter 18 - Lightning War  
  
ISS Voyager, Vaadwaur Prime, Delta Quadrant  
  
"Wait, you say that you recently had a major war with the Borg Collective?" The Vaadwaur said incredulously as he and Cavit walked down one of Voyager's hallways. "Before we lost our empire and went into stasis, the Borg had only a handful of planets near the galactic rim. How could an Empire as impressive as yours even been slowed down by such an inconsequential foe?"  
  
"Things have changed in the centuries since you and the others entered stasis." Cavit replied. "The Borg expanded to take nearly two thirds of the quadrant before we first encountered them. It was extremely good fortune that we encountered them first rather than the other way around. While our ships are powerful," The Vaadwaur nodded his understanding, for this Imperial Cruiser was a match for a pre fall Vaadwaur Battleship, "we would have been hard pressed to hold off an all out Borg assault on our space. So we studied them, learned their weaknesses and exploited them while eliminating their advantages over us. And then, when we were ready, we struck and struck hard. It wasn't an easy fight, but the downfall of the Borg was determined after the first engagement was successfully concluded."  
  
The Vaadwaur smiled. "Are you sure your species originated in the alpha quadrant Captain? What you describe is almost as cunning a strategy as one of my people would have developed. Even though there is much you could teach us, I don't think that our two peoples are all that different. We each value strong leadership and decisive action against threats."  
  
"I'm glad to hear it, because there is a new threat to my people coming to light. Two of our enemies thought vanquished have seemingly joined forces. Combined, the Interstellar Concordium and the Dominion pose a significant threat if they attack with the Empire unprepared and unawares. Of my Battlegroup, only my ship escaped. I must bring word back to the Empire, the very survival of our way of life may be at stake."  
  
"And now we come to the heart of the matter." The alien stopped and turned directly towards Cavit. The cobra like frills down the sides of his neck were clearly visible from his change in profile. "You want access to our corridor information so that you may plot your way home by the most direct route."  
  
This alien was no fool, even if he was from a fallen empire Cavit thought. "That's exactly what I want. I am sure the Emperor will reimburse you generously for the information, and I am willing to share corridor charts that you have no knowledge of over and above what he may be willing to give you."  
  
"Very well, I shall take your proposal to the others so that we may decide our course of action. We shall give you our decision shortly."  
  
Underground Stasis Facility, Vaadwaur Prime  
  
".So that's their proposition."  
  
"I say we attack Voyager and take her for our own. With her as the beginnings of a fleet, we could carve out a new empire for ourselves."  
  
"Are you mad? Voyager is part of an empire that spans half the galaxy. Even during our height, we only controlled a quarter of this quadrant. Think of the resources that we would gain with such a power as our ally. Voyager's Captain has told me of a wondrous device his people possess. It can turn a lifeless world into a living one near instantly. Think of it, Vaadwaur Prime could be made lush and vibrant again without many, many years of exhausting terraforming. In minutes we would have our homeworld back, able to use it as a base of operations to expand and begin bringing our empire back from the dead."  
  
"But we have no assurance that this Emperor of theirs will do anything for us!"  
  
"But nothing!" The chief Vaadwaur cut his argumentative companion off. "I have seen Voyager, you have not. She is a warship, and her crew are soldiers. While we may outnumber them close to four to one, they have weapons that make our best energy rifle look like a flashlight in comparison. Even if we could take the ship, she is a mere Cruiser. Think of what we could receive if we save the Terran Empire from this new threat. The Dominion we haven't heard of, but the ISC we have. While in our time they were a loose amalgam of telepathic races with an odd ideology of bringing all species into peaceful coexistence through force of arms, the information Captain Cavit has provided indicates that they expanded considerably in our absence, as well as grew strong militarily. It was fortunate that they still kept their sense of superiority, for it was that alone that allowed the Terrans to beat them the first time they came. If they are a resurgent power so close to our own world, how do you propose that we remain outside their influence? No, I say we help these Imperials as much as we can, for they are much more preferable than any of the other powers that will inevitably come looking to bring us to heel. The Turei and their allies might even come again, and in our current state they could easily wipe us out once and for all."  
  
"Very well, we shall aid these Imperials in their search." The argumentative Vaadwaur conceded. "But let it be on your head if bad things come from this union." With the chief supporter of all counter arguments switching sides, it became a forgone conclusion as to which faction would win the debate.  
  
ISS Voyager, Command Staff Briefing Room, That same time  
  
"I vote that we go down there now and take what we need from these lesser beings. Their technology is antiquated and they would be no match for our Marines!" Lt. Kim argued passionately. "We could even beam down a paralytic aerosol before they knew what was happening, then bring them up here and make them give us the information."  
  
"Given the scans we have of their physiology, I am certain I could rapidly produce a suitable compound that would act as a truth serum in their species. In fact, they are quite similar in their biochemical response factors to the Pichartialn of Delta Timor Seven. With a few minor modifications to that species drug baselines, I could easily manufacture anything you would want to use, from voluntary nerve inhibitors to individual specific biotoxins." The EMH piped up from the wall com panel.  
  
"That may not prove necessary." Tuvok replied with a raised eyebrow at the overzealous Kim and the EMH. "We do not yet know their decision. A preemptive strike in these circumstances could prove to be counter productive. I propose that we wait till we have their decision before we take any proactive action. If it is favorable, then we will not have to take any action at all while gaining the information we desire. If it isn't, it won't take long to implement any of these plans and extract the information from the Vaadwaur weather they are willing to provide it or not."  
  
"I see what you're getting at Cmdr." Cavit replied. "It's the old carrot and stick routine. Give them the carrot, but if they still won't comply, we use the till then hidden stick. I like it." Cavit looked up at the EMH's image on the com panel. It was still felt slightly odd to Cavit to be talking to a computer program rather than a fellow living being, but till Voyager returned to Imperial space, there were no more qualified Medical personnel on the ship. "Prepare everything you need short of actual synthesis of the agents but do not create the agents themselves. We still have a day of repairs left, even with the help the Vaadwaur have been providing, before we have to leave. We'll wait and see their response before we proceed further." A chorus of ayes came from his officers acknowledging that they understood. Cavit was still irritated that Voyagers long range coms had sustained to much damage to be repaired in field, but he hoped to be able to sneak back to Imperial space before that handicap could prove catastrophic.  
  
ISS Voyager, Command Staff Briefing Room, Two Hours Later  
  
"You made the right choice." Cavit told the Vaadwaur, flashing the snake- head a tooth filled smile. He passed a PADD containing all known subspace corridor lanes in the Delta Quadrant across the table to him. The Vaadwaur studied them in silence for a few minutes, then returned Cavit's smile.  
  
"These charts match some of our explored lanes perfectly, and those that are unknown to me are from spacial coordinates that are unexplored by my people. This is no fake, for if it was, there wouldn't be any correlation at all between our charts and yours. Yet where the two overlap, they are identical." The alien reached into his clothing and pulled out a device similar to a Starfleet PADD. He slid it across the table to Cavit. "These are records of all the mapped subspace corridors known to the Vaadwaur. As you can see, they intersect your explored ones at quite a few points, even though we explored more towards the galactic fringe, out towards what you know as Kazon, Ocampan and Talaxian space." The alien shook his head slowly, his eyes getting a far away look. "So much time has been lost. When we were forced into stasis, it was only to be for a few months, enough time to let our enemies think we were beaten. They would have fallen on each other rather quickly, for they hated their other allies almost as much as they hated us. Without their cohesion, they would have fallen even before our small remnant of our former strength." A small sigh escaped him. "Over 900 years slipping away from us while we slept unawares in stasis. So much lost time to make up for."  
  
"With the Empire's help, you will get that time. You have done us a great service, and the Empire remembers its friends."  
  
Then, without warning, the massive grounded bulk of Voyager shuddered noticeably. Both the Vaadwaur and Cavit birthed near mirror image frowns of concern. Tuvok raised a questioning eyebrow from his seat at Scot's side. A melodic yet piercing tone sounded throughout Voyager as the alert displays scattered throughout the ship shifted to yellow alert. The Captain's combadge chirped and he slapped it in acknowledgement almost instantly.  
  
"Cavit here. What's going on?" As he spoke, the ship shuddered again.  
  
"Captain, sensors are indicating weapons fire is impacting the planet. The ISC and Dominion forces have apparently satisfied themselves that we didn't continue on through the corridor network and have come back here to ensure we won't escape to the Empire. Since the weapons fire is currently impacting on the far side of the planet we should be fairly safe till we get Voyager ready for lift off."  
  
"Make all haste Lt. Kim. I'll be on the bridge momentarily." Cavit and Tuvok got up, making for the door to the bridge with the Vaadwaur getting up to join them. Voyager shuddered again as the seismic shock of the distant weapons fire was transferred through the deployed landing struts. Suddenly the Briefing Room was light as if by a flash bulb going off outside its sloped windows. A blast front moving through the heavily contaminated atmosphere lashed Voyager's shields even as the debris carried with it struck their energized barrier. A massive roar was heard even as the rocky earth itself rippled like a wave filled ocean. Cavit's ship bucked like a spooked animal as the ground beneath her shifted drastically. Scott, Tuvok, the Vaadwaur and two body armored security officers stumbled, nearly falling to the deck, then staggered through the door onto the bridge. Behind them, a giant mushroom cloud was visible where the now dimming sun bright strobe had been birthed. Molten chunks of bedrock, some the size of battlecruisers, began to rain down in columns of hellfire even as molten lava began to spew freely from the new crack in Vaadwaur Prime's crust.  
  
By this time red alert klaxons were lighting off, adding their atonal wail to the steady rumble that immersed the landed starship. Cavit half sat, half fell into his chair and the Vaadwaur gripped the railing with the whitened knuckles of one hand while the other brought a communication device to his lips.  
  
"Mr. Paris, get us the HELL out of here!" Cavit yelled to be heard above the cacophony of sound on the bridge. For once, there was no snide undertone to his helmsman's reply.  
  
"Aye Sir." Tom Parris said as he began to furiously enter commands into his console. The ship slipped into the air almost immediately, and the rumble and shaking stopped almost entirely as Voyager began to claw her way into the upper atmosphere before her landing struts had even fully retracted. The external view on the main viewscreen rolled and twisted in a stomach churning display as Tom rolled and pirouetted the swift Imperial cruiser out of the enemy's blind fire barrage.  
  
"Captain, the near miss was a gigaton range plasma torpedo striking 107.93 km due planetary east of our landing site." Tuvok reported from his station at Tactical. "Scanners report that all Vaadwaur ships have launched and are converging on our position."  
  
"Launch a Stealth Probe to scout out an escape vector. Mr. Kim, plot a corridor route that will be the least time course back to Imperial space and send it to Helm. I assume that your people will be joining us in our escape Falran?" Cavit said over his shoulder to the Vaadwaur.  
  
"We will indeed Captain Cavit. Since your enemies are so willing to further destroy our planet in an attempt to get you, it is no longer safe for us to remain here. We shall return with you and aid you any way we can."  
  
"Excellent."  
  
"Captain, the probe has found a hole in the orbiting fleet that we can exploit." Tuvok said from across the bridge.  
  
"Do it!" Cavit replied.  
  
The sleek form of an Imperial Intrepid Class cruiser in charcoal black punched through the final layer of concealing atmosphere and into the ebon vastness of space. Seconds later, a gaggle of close to one hundred Vaadwaur Frigates burst heavenward in her wake. Presented with a viable target solution on their true quarry at last, the bombarding fleet ceased fire on the near lifeless Class L world and swung into pursuit of Voyager. There were dozens of them, of both ISC and Dominion design, ranging in size from Frigates to Battlecruisers. The fleeter ISC craft closed on the small Imperial vessel and it's unexpected consorts, but just as they got into extreme range they were rudely surprised. Vaadwaur Frigates swung about, lining up with their chosen targets. Rippling, expanding waves of reddish energy spawned from their weapons mounts, streaking outward to intersect with the oncoming enemy ships. The enemy ships acted as if swatted aside by a giant hand. They tumbled out of control, some colliding with each other causing their shields to spark and glow when they met. They remained confused just long enough to allow Voyager and the Vaadwaur to escape into the corridor network, once again slipping through the Galactic Unities grasp.  
  
Cavit looked over his shoulder toward the Vaadwaur questioningly. "We call it a Flux Wave Captain. We find it very useful to discourage pursuit." The alien replied. Cavit nodded and turned back to stare at the main viewer, but the wheels in his head were spinning as to what Imperial Engineers could do with that weapons system. He was still thinking when his command and its escort entered the subspace corridor network and laid in their course for Imperial Space.  
  
ISS Voyager, Main Bridge, Six Days Later, Enroute to Imperial Space  
  
Cavit stared in abject horror at the main viewer, mouth agape and eyes hollow. His very soul cried out for mercy from the image it displayed, but Voyager's central computer couldn't read her Captain's soul and wouldn't have changed what the viewer displayed even if it could.  
  
Close to 3000 vessels, mostly of Interstellar Concordium manufacture, had joined this corridor via an adjoining branch less than a minute earlier, meeting up with the force already pursuing him and the Vaadwaur ships. It wouldn't matter that Voyager would arrive ahead of all of them, for he now knew that he was far to late. The pending invasion he had sought to warn the Empire about was ALREADY underway, and his warning would be scant minutes before it struck its targets. 


	22. Chapter 19

Chapter 19 - Weighed in the Balance.  
  
Prescott's Star, Subspace Corridor Loci Kappa, Battlestation Tolstoy  
  
Brevet Commodore Vivian DaGaule sat in the command chair in the center of Tolstoy's Ops deck. While she didn't mind her promotion, it had made her persona non gratta amongst her former friends. They disliked the fact that she had been chosen for brevet promotion instead of them, and she just couldn't find it in herself to blame them for their feelings. If the positions were reversed, she knew she would be just as angry and sullen with whoever else had received the unexpected promotion. Still, it was a lonely existence in spite of the perks being a Battlestation CO.  
  
"Commodore? I have indications of an emergence locus on my scanners."  
  
"How big?"  
  
"It's looking like about equivalent mass to a cruiser squadron, but we aren't expecting any cruiser squadrons today, let alone from Deep Delta Quad Corridor loci." The scanner tech replied with a slight frown.  
  
"Hmmm. Better bump it up to Sector HQ for the Skippers perusal. And put the loci battlestations on yellow alert. This is likely nothing, but it's best to be prepared."  
  
"Aye sir." The crew of the massive battlestation scurried about to execute her orders. The lone melodic chime of yellow alert pulsed through the communication system of the Tolstoy and wall alert lights shifted from deep blue to amber.  
  
"Emergence in three. two. one."  
  
The Imperial warship dropped out of the swirling crimson vortex of the corridor as it terminated its run at the outskirts of Prescott's Star star system. Her IFF was immediately queried and authenticated, but it was a frantic burst transmission to the defending Battlestation's computer systems that temporarily stayed the massive weapons systems from automatically targeting and blowing the follow on Vaadwaur ships from space.  
  
"This is Captain Cavit of the Imperial Star Ship Voyager, ignore the alien vessels behind us, they are friends. I request an immediate connection to the System CO!"  
  
"Hold on Captain, just who are the aliens behind."  
  
"There is no TIME you fool!!! I need a com channel NOW!! They're right behind us!" Cavit interrupted desperately.  
  
The com tech turned to look to Vivian for guidance. She had heard the entire exchange as it was put on the main viewer. There was just something in the Captain's voice that told her he wasn't lying.  
  
"Put him through Ensign."  
  
ISS Voyager  
  
Voyager's main viewer was filled with a slightly frowning visage of an Imperial Captain. No, check that, Cavit thought, a Brevet Admiral from the rank pips on his collar, even though his uniform was that of a starship commander. Cavit spared a split second to mull over this strange turn of events before he started to give his warning.  
  
"Admiral, there is a fleet following us, and they'll be here in a few minutes. They are made up of primarily Interstellar Concordium vessels with a few Dominion ships along as well. They have enough firepower to do severe damage to this system."  
  
"Upload all your data to Starbase 2000 CIC immediately." The Admiral snapped as a dawning realization of just how serious the situation was hit him with Cavit's final words. "I assume the frigates that followed you here are friendly?" Cavit had time to nod before the Admiral continued on. "Coordinate their integration to Imperial standard com channels and IFF settings. We'll sort out just who they are afterward. For now, I need them. I am placing you and your friends under the direct control of Loci Kappa Defense Command. Vanguard out."  
  
"Once this is all over, I hope we're still around to find out just why a Captain is in charge of a Sector." Tom said from his station. Before Scott could respond, Harry called out for his attention  
  
"Captain, we are being hailed by Loci Kappa Defense Command, they are supplying us with course directions and they're tying us into their Command Datalink Net."  
  
ISS Valley Forge, Flag Bridge  
  
So it was now that all of Ulysses plans would be put to the test. His changes to the status quo would be weighed in the balance, their mettle tested in the crucible of battle. He had matured much in the last few months, grown into the burden of command that he had stumbled into unawares if he could shoulder its weight. He was now sure of himself, sure that he could lead his people as competently as any other commander in the fleet. What he wasn't sure of was if his leadership had reforged Starbase 2000's defenders into a proper weapon of war. Like an untested sword, the weapon looked sturdy, but would it last in combat?  
  
Ready or not, war was coming to Prescott's Star. There would be casualties, Ulysses steeled himself to that bitter pill for there were always casualties, even in a one sided battle. The question was, would any of the defenders be alive to care.  
  
"Order a sector wide Alert. Bring all operational ships and static defenses to red alert. Send all data on our enemy from Voyager's database to Starfleet Command and all Sector Fleet Bases." Ulysses rattled off in rapid fire command mode.  
  
"Skipper, Loci Kappa reports an incoming emergence locus. A big one." Percy Davenport said  
  
"Form up the fleet. Prepare to micro jump to staging area Frank on my command."  
  
"Sir, a new ship has dropped out of Loci Delta! She's a scout, Nova Class, and she's squealing something about a massive fleet coming down the corridor behind her." Sarah Wendell interrupted from her station.  
  
Ulysses eyes went round behind the concealing shroud of the Flag Bridge's holo display. Then they narrowed in speculation. "Com, get me a figure as to just when that other fleet is going to arrive."  
  
"The scout, Tarantula is saying they are about ten minutes behind her, and they have close to 1000 ships."  
  
All the pieces fell into place in Ulysses mind. Oh it was a classic ploy, move forces to attack one enemy while another snuck around behind you to hit your rear areas. And what commander couldn't do less than attack the massive force that would be entering Loci Kappa in mere seconds now. And once he was engaging them, the second strike would crash in behind him. Caught between two fires, his command would be in a very precarious position to defeat both at once. But by blessed chance he know knew about the other attack force. Now what to do about them.  
  
"Order Bat Cru Div 6653 and 8217 to proceed with their escorts to staging area Frank and bolster Loci Kappa Defense Forces. Have the rest of the fleet remain here but have them launch a EW decoy to staging area Frank. Make them think we have sent all the mobile forces there save the reserve squadrons. Then I want every ship to go into stealth mode and the stations to bring on as much ECM as they muster. Order all units to engage with plan Zapata Five."  
  
"Hostile emergence at Loci Kappa!" Davenport said. "Loci Kappa Defense Command reports they have engaged the enemy." As he spoke, Ulysses saw the enemy fleet emerge from the Corridor Terminus on his holo display. It was not as high a detail as it normally would be, due in part to the ungodly amount of ECM being put out in the local space around Lilith. But it was also due to the degraded Datalink Net thanks to the ISC's own EW efforts. Still, the resolution was enough to know just how hard a time the Loci defenses were going to have. There were an awful lot of angry crimson contacts on the holodisplay.  
  
"Sir, Kappa Defense is requesting reinforcements."  
  
"No." Ulysses winced inside as he issued the denial, knowing full well what that order was going to cost.  
  
"But sir, if they aren't reinforced they can't."  
  
"Damn it, don't you think I know that?" Ulysses growled tersely. He gestured to the distant Loci Delta on his holodisplay. "But I can't send them the ships. For now, at least, Kappa Defense is on their own."  
  
Loci Kappa, Prescott's Star  
  
The massive fleet of ISC vessels dropped into real space. They were to be the anvil of the carefully coordinated attack. Unity agents in place in the system had given word that the systems new CO had been shaking things up, but realistically, how much could one man do in this dumping ground for worthless officers? Not much High Command had decided, and so the increasingly concerned dispatches from Unity operatives were largely ignored. The forces allocated to the assault force were unaltered, with two thirds of them beginning their largely diversionary but quite real assault on the nearby defenses.  
  
Plasma crisscrossed with phaser as the deadly beautiful lattice work of energy began to light the night. While the defenders were outnumbered by a considerable margin, they were mainly Battlestations. The massive, heavily shielded and armored hides were specifically designed to absorb the best efforts of an enemy fleet while remaining combat effective. And they were several times again the size of even the largest enemy vessel. Carefully choreographed fire lanced into the ISC ships selected for destruction. Phaser lance fire was backed up by standard heavy phaser array strikes and enough quantums to turn space white. The dumbbell shaped Imperial Battlestations coordinated their strikes with each other and their defensive fleets. The ships of Bat Cru Div 6653 and 8217 came as a nasty surprise. Largely ignored as inferior targets as the ISC fleet set about reducing the battlestations, they were able to fall into weapons range relatively unscathed. It was then that the newly refitted Excelsior class Battlecruisers struck their first blow. It had taken some pretty creative engineering to shoehorn a Phaser Lance into an Excelsior class Hull but the yard dogs, once sufficiently motivated, pulled off a minor miracle in proving that it could be done. The Battle Cruiser Division's fire converged on their assigned targets, and their massed tongues of flame burned them from space.  
  
Death stalked the space around the corridor locus, dispatched upon computer prioritized targets with a machines dispassion for the loss of life their destruction incurred. Hundreds of ISC vessels were burned from space within minutes, but that left over a thousand that continued to press home their numerical superiority. The smaller vessels pressed home their superior maneuverability and speed over their Imperial fellows. But the cake walk against substandard opponents that was expected never occurred. Instead of being an ill trained enemy with equipment in poor repair, the initial assault waves were rudely surprised by the precise weapons fire and squadron discipline the Imperials were exhibiting. It was nearly every bit as tight as their own, and in spite of their superior numbers, in the swirling fur ball that rapidly developed around the battlestations, the superior individual weight of fire that the finely linked battle stations and their defensive fleet could put out began to have a telling effect. The Bat'leth like Interstellar Concordium vessels maneuvered with reckless speed, diving in and out of the battle as Imperial battlestations hammered them with weapons fire. Unimaginable energies were thrown through space, depleting shields, paring away armor with high energy knives, punching massive, glowing wounds that penetrated deep into hulls. Here and there, Vaadwaur ships sent out their highly useful flux waves, staggering multi million ton vessels like they were so much balsa wood for a vital few moments. Engines knocked temporarily off line, the massive warships spun out of control, becoming easy meat for the titanic battlestations and their Phaser Lance armed escorts.  
  
The Imperial Battlestation Tolstoy great mass shuddered anew as yet another wave of energetic plasma struck it through a downed shield. "Outer hull breach in deck 53 through 59, sectors 3442 through 3601. Inner hull still at full integrity and outer hull breaches have been sealed with emergency forcefields. Blast doors adjacent to damaged sections have been activated and the affected compartments have been evacuated of all nonessential personnel." An Ensign called out a fresh damage report to Brevet Commodore Vivian DaGaule.  
  
"Phasers 42 through 47 are down. Lances 12 through 19 are destroyed. Quantum tubes 30 through 43 and Heavy tubes 36 through 39 are gone. Shields compromised across multiple arcs portside and armor failing in sectors 13 Alpha through 41 Gamma. Regeneration ineffective Sir! There's just too much weapons fire coming in to fast." Another piece of bad news was fed to her. Yet even as the enemy savaged her command, her own weapons and those of her consorts flashed back defiance. Massed Lance fire snapped out and washed over a Superdreadnought. The ship was easily a match for even a Bastion, but she had been crippled in an earlier strike and she was the only one of her class present in the enemy fleet. Precisely choreographed fire, brought on target thanks to the stations datalink, caused all of the stations' surviving weapons systems that bore on the target to fire as one. The enemy leviathan finally died in a star bright boil as its engines and weapons magazines finally let go in a cataclysmic boil of eye tearing light.  
  
On her holodisplay, Vivian saw a gaggle of furiously maneuvering upgraded Excelsiors streak after an enemy Battleship. The vessel was already crippled, but even so it still set a deadly stream of plasma waves from its capital weaponry to one of Tolstoy sister stations. The beam was severed suddenly as the massed fire from the Excelsior wing cut the ISC ship in two, her entire front third disappearing in a plume of plasma and debris leaving behind a broken and drifting hulk that shed escape pods like tears. To her right, the Sovereign class Sojourner, her port warp nacelle a shattered, plasma leaking stump and with a large, glowing molten wound marring her ventral saucer, screamed down on a ISC Frigate wing. Even in her wounded state, all of her weapons spat death. Her twin Phaser Lances sent solid shafts of amber red light outward, piercing their targets clean through, then cutting them lengthwise as they continued on their course. Both died in terrible, short lived suns as their cores breached within instants of each other. A barrage of quantums and standard phasers scored hits on the others, eventually punching through their light defenses and turning them into so much vaporized scrap. Then the Sojourner died as a massive barrage of plasma torpedoes struck her hull. The heavy armor resisted as best it could, but space itself was blotted out by the dense barrage. The ship splintered into three main chunks, carried along the same basic trajectory thanks to simple physics. With the full weight of the fleet, the defenses might have been able to rout the enemy, but even as a fresh attack went out from Vivian's command, the first of her multi hundred million ton sister stations died in a brilliant fireball. The tears that wetted Vivian's eyes were not only thanks to the hideous brightness of its death. 


	23. Chapter 20

Chapter 20 - Weighed in the Balance.  
  
IBS Tolstoy  
  
"Get those fresh power leads in here!" a voice shouted somewhere on the shattered deck. Marines in full power armor strained to drag the heavy cables through the rubble towards the quantum launcher. It was lucky, it had been only on the edge of a weapons strike rather than a few feet over. It had only had its power cut off by the deadly attack, not total vaporization like its nearest neighbor. The Marines dragged the unwieldy EPS lines to the inert launcher, passing by a gaping, multi deck crater in the stations surface. Emergency forcefields shimmered as they kept in atmosphere and kept out the hard radiation that bathed the still white hot alloy and armor beyond. Phaser beams and plasma torpedoes screamed back and forth beyond the crater, almost to fast to see, soundless in the empty void of space. Perhaps that was what made this place so creepy. There was terrible amounts of energy being set loose only a few feet from the station, but aside from the odd shudder, the station was being left largely alone for the time being. The infrequent groans, pops and screeches of the nearby decks as they fought against their weakening supports was bad enough, picked up through the replenished atmosphere by the Marines external audio mikes.  
  
The crewman who was furiously running diagnostics on his launcher called out again over his shoulder. "Hook em up, we may have been lightly singed by that near miss, but we can still fire once we have the juice by God!" His uniform and hair sill smoked slightly in places, and his face had horrible looking burns, but the antiballistic fabric and emergency forcefield of his uniform had kept the worst of the nearby explosion at bay.  
  
The Marines finally butted the torso thick power leads up to the appropriate junction on the side of the quantum tube. After a few seconds more of grunting and straining with their synthetic muscles, they managed to seat the cables firmly into their sockets. The Marine signaled his Damage Control Team leader.  
  
"Sir, the leads are in place. Commence power up at your discretion." After the acknowledgement from the far end, the cables came alive, buzzing quietly as energetic plasma began to course through them, feeding the systems of the launcher with their needed energy. Telltale lights sparked to life as main power war restored. The crewman entered a blur of commands on his panel, his keystrokes causing quiet beeps and chirps. Seconds later, a soft, subsonic hum was heard as the launcher once again sent a burst of quantum torpedoes at its tasked targets. The Marines, their job done, turned around and went to their next assignment. There was reported to be some crew trapped in behind a pile of fallen debris and only the power armor's synthetic muscles could shift some of the larger, heavier pieces.  
  
ISS Valley Forge  
  
"Sir, reports coming in that the EW drones have reached staging area Frank."  
  
"Order them to proceed to Loci Kappa under low grade ECM. I want the enemy to get a good look at em, but not enough to see through their ruse." Ulysses said.  
  
Commissar Stevens walked through the holographic shroud that largely concealed Ulysses while providing him with the unfettered view of the battlefield he needed to coordinate his fleet.  
  
"Mr. Vanguard, I think you should deploy." her speech was stopped mid sentence as Ulysses raised a hand palm up.  
  
"Miss Stevens, while you may be my political watchdog, your grasp of tactics isn't that good. Going to Loci Kappa's aid is exactly what the enemy wants us to do. I don't intend on playing to the tune they pipe because it's a good way to get dead. Just sit down and shut up, I don't have the time to explain it all to you now." Ulysses said.  
  
The very nerve of this man, thinking he can talk to a Section 31 officer in such a disrespectful manner, Stevens thought. Then she was interrupted by a call from her left.  
  
"Here come the enemy forces through Loci Delta." Davenport said. After a few seconds, CIC began to assign numbers and class to its plot. "Sweet Mary Mother of God!"  
  
There were similar expletives uttered throughout the fleet as the tactical plot resolved itself. Although the new enemy fleet was only half as numerous as their first one, they were very top heavy in hull class. 80% of them were Dreadnoughts or Superdreadnoughts with the rest being Battleships. They cut through the Loci forts like a hot knife through butter, leaving shattered, savaged battlestations in their wake and taking only light casualties in return. They immediately engaged high warp directly towards what their sensors told them was an Imperial fleet at staging area Frank. Caught thusly between the two opposing forces, they would have been picked apart in detail, allowing the enemy to close and pick apart the orbital forts around Lilith at their leisure. Ulysses merely turned an 'I told you so look' on Stevens, and she meekly backed out through the holodisplay. She may not like her inexperience in tactical battles being shown in front of the entire crew of the Flag Bridge, but she knew that any further interference now would be counterproductive to winning the coming engagement. She would deal with Captain Vanguard's insubordination after the battle was done.  
  
"Orders to all fleet units, engage on course 445 mark 320 and drop out of FTL at." Ulysses consulted the path the rapidly advancing Enemy fleet, designated Force Beta by CIC, was cruising down. It was a simple least time, high warp course that would avoid the effects of the anti-warp field being emitted by the battlestations. ".system coordinates 442.515.870. Deploy into formation Theta Two and bring your anti-warp generators online."  
  
Force Beta was rapidly approaching Lilith's general area, their flight path designed to skirt as tightly as possible the warp bubble destroying field. It was a relatively minor matter to pop directly in front of them, presenting a road block that would have to be dealt with before they could advance. The Imperial fleet, 1700 strong, formed up into a concave, ovoid wall, spreading around the main axis of advance for Force Beta. Lighter units were the farthest out, ready to swoop in on the exposed flanks of the enemy when they were yanked out of warp. EW drones of all types were deployed to confuse enemy sensors as much as possible. The heavy hitters of Ulysses fleet were placed in the middle with their support cadre of Aegeans, Nebulas, Steamrunners and Akiras tucked in the relative safely behind them. But the support ships weren't the only thing hiding in the great capital ships sensor shadows. Ulysses and his staff had thought up a little surprise for an invading fleet to encounter.  
  
It all happened in seconds, leaving virtually no time for Force Beta to react. They had thought that the Imperial fleet was safely drawn towards Loci Kappa, not lying in wait near Lilith. They barely brought their full EW online and didn't have time to reinforce their forward shield arcs before they were dragged from warp.  
  
"Fire!" Ulysses barked as CIC threw targeting brackets around the primary targets. Ulysses' ships opened fire with everything they had. Fire support ships cut loose with their torpedo biased armaments, filling space with wave after wave of blue/white Quantum Torpedoes and the reddish orange of Heavy Torpedoes. But the broadsides were even denser than would usually be the case, for Ulysses chose then to unleash his surprise.  
  
Tractor beams pulled their charges from concealment, swinging Type-V Orbital Weapons Platforms into clear attack lanes. These torpedo turrets added their warheads to the volleys, thickening them to over twice what they would have normally been. What would have been a significant nuisance, but a nuisance none the less otherwise became a serious threat to the enemy capital ships. In a capital ship slugging match, torpedoes usually lacked the strength to get through an active shield, used instead to weaken points in the shield to better allow follow up phaser and lance strikes to punch through. But if used in sufficient numbers, they could eventually pare away even a superdreadnought's shields. A great wave rushing in like the evening tide crashed in on the designated targets. Zero point energy incursions and large scale matter/antimatter fireballs pockmarked the enemy fleet at the knife range of two light seconds. Dozens of starships died in the opening volley, and it was only the beginning.  
  
"Engage with the Lances, Mr. Davenport."  
  
"Aye sir!" Percy said eagerly.  
  
Type-X OWPs swung from behind their mother ships and birthed fire even as the first return fire came from the ISC fleet in return. The Imperial's shipboard launchers spoke with the OWPs, and united they sent a tidal bore of destruction down on Force Delta. Shields were smashed flat, armor was splintered and vaporized. One after the other, in a rapidly growing stream, the ISC capital ships fell out of formation after taking catastrophic damage. The range was close enough for the Imperial's primary weapons to be brought into play. PPC and phaser beam fire sprouted from their armored emplacements, turning the intervening space between the ISC and Imperial fleet's star bright with released energy.  
  
Ulysses felt the Forge rock under him as she took hits from Plasmatic Pulsar Device emplacements and Plasma torpedoes. He saw the ships forward shields flare nearly out of existence, and nearly gave the order to divert power and reinforce them. But the Valley Forge was no longer under his direct control. His need to act as Fleet Admiral had necessitated giving control of his ship over to P'tel, and he had every confidence in her ability to keep his ship and her crew alive. Even as he brought his eyes away from the bridge tactical repeater he saw his ship's representation on his command holodisplay swing into a hard 180 degree about face, bringing her nearly as heavy aft weaponry and fully charged shield to interdict fresh enemy fire. The ship didn't change position in the formation at all. Good job Miss Sulu, Ulysses thought. His ship rocked again, harder this time, as more enemy fire homed in on her. He forced himself to ignore it and concentrate on the Fleet's attack. His hands flew like a symphony conductor's as he tasked and retasked the targeting priorities. His own ships began to die, as he knew was inevitable with the weight of fire coming in from the enemy. He showed no emotion as the death and damage reports began to come in. There would be time for grieving later, but not now. Now he needed a clear head, one that made their sacrifice worth something. For if he couldn't hold the enemy, or at least cripple them enough to keep them from taking out Lilith's orbital forts, their sacrifice wouldn't be worth it. He had already taken a large bite out of Force Beta, but their own return fire had punched holes in his own ranks.  
  
On the holodisplay, Force Alpha was now attempting to disengage from the battle around Loci Kappa and come to the aid of Force Beta. They had largely reduced the battlestations there to impotence and the defending fleet was only harrying them now, staying in range enough so that Force Alpha couldn't jump to warp but not close enough to get fried easily.  
  
Ulysses fleet was taking a pounding, but he was giving as good as he got. Two of his squadron mates died in rapid succession, the Muteki and Thanatos now nothing more than mangled wrecks shedding life pods. Ulysses winced inside. They had been good ships with good crews. Now they were gone, taking lord knew how many of their crews with them. Thousands of Cobras streaked in and out of the fleet battle like bulls to the matador, chewing on vulnerable ships with their PPCs. Squadrons died by the handful, but there were a lot of fighters, and with virtually no escorts along and the other ships concentrating on the Imperial capital ships, the ISC fleet began to feel the sting of the Cobra's venom. Many of the fleet's Soulwolfs were assigned sniper duty, operating in the flanks of the ISC fleet, coordinating their fire via Datalink Net in order to keep redundant fire to an absolute minimum. Achilles class ships spun like dervishes to keep a fresh undamaged shield arc facing the enemy, all the while firing a vortex of PPC bolts at the enemy.  
  
Finally it happened, Force Beta began to unravel. It started in dribs and drabs at first, a ship here and there falling astern, then swinging around and streaking away for Loci Delta. But soon, there were entire squadrons breaking and fleeing back towards the subspace corridors. Seeing their fellows break and run, Force Alpha did the same, falling back through Loci Kappa and its now near totally shattered defenders.  
  
"Orders to the Fleet. Pursuit course on Force Beta. Aim for their engines, I want as many of them disabled as possible." With those orders, Ulysses settled into his command chair, fairly deflating. He heard a muted cheer course throughout his ship, one reinforced by the cheering on the Flag Bridge. What had become a largely orderly retreat was quickly turned into a near rout. The ISC ships had been strung out to much by their delay in ordering a retreat. The ones that had broke first were now quite far in front of their peers who had stayed longer. This allowed the combined fire from the Imperial fleet to pick them off piece meal. By the time the last ISC ship reached the Locus, only 231 ships had escaped from Loci Delta while 1305 had escaped through Loci Kappa. Total ISC losses numbered 1464 ships, mostly of capital ship classes. In return they had destroyed 452 ships and 25 Battlestations. While those losses were bad, the losses to the ISC fleet had been far worse in comparison. Loosing nearly ¾ of the capital ships in your attacking fleet for the destruction of only a handful of enemy capital ships and battlestations wasn't a good day if you were the ISC.  
  
"Deploy SAR forces immediately, I want every lost escape pod and spaced crewman found ASAP. And that includes those of our enemy, make that abundantly clear to all teams. Then order the fleet to return to Lilith orbit. Order all salvageable vessels to towed back to Lilith with us. We need to get a priority list organized as to who needs the repairs the most. I want to be as ready as we can be for a fresh attack. Send a message off to Starfleet Command. Initial assault on Prescott's Star repulsed with minimal losses. Request immediate reinforcements and recommend that all Sector Fleets be placed on heightened alert." Ulysses said. "Attach the tactical battle logs and send it."  
  
"Aye sir."  
  
"If anything odd happens, I'll be in my ready room." Ulysses said as he got up and strode off of the Flag Bridge without a backward glance. 


	24. Chapter 21

Chapter 21 - When the Bow Breaks  
  
Imperial Palace, Moscow, Terra  
  
The vast forest of super strong alloy and transparent aluminum, that were modern skyscrapers housing billions, enfolded the newly completed Imperial Palace. These artificial tree trunks stretched their roots deep underground into the supporting bedrock and their branches high into the nebulous atmosphere of the stratosphere. Enclosed walkways connected the structures at regular intervals, allowing for the oldest method of transportation to be employed for nearby commutes and errands so as not to overly tie up the transporter net. Swimming in between these geometrically ordered trunks were level upon level of air car and shuttle routes. The plethora of small craft resembled leaves, but ones aligned in perfectly straight ranks rather than the chaotic mass of a normal tree.  
  
Emperor Jack Chambers the First finished his contented stare at his new capital city through the perfect one way glass of his throne room's ceiling and went back to the daily grind of being a supreme ruler. Of course, his current task was much more fun than the normal decisions he made. He was like a kid in a candy store, for as Emperor of the Terran Empire, he had more power than even his wildest fantasies had prepared him for.  
  
This power gave him the ability to activate programs that had long lain dormant under the Terran Council's inept and inefficient leadership. The schematics for a vessel bigger than even a Bastion class Monitor, and also considerably greater in firepower, were displayed on a PADD in on his desk. There was also a plan that was somewhat insane. A disgruntled Krenim scientist had approached an Imperial envoy claiming that he could produce an immensely powerful weapons system. His own government had been to timid to fund his experiments, but the Terran Council had taken him in, even if they had only given him minor funding and support. They had apparently not given much credence to his claims but on the off chance that they proved true, didn't want him in the employ of one of the Empire's enemies. That lack of funding was about to change. If the effects of this weapons system were indeed as good as his claims, he would get as much funding as he needed. Commander Bruce Maddox had requisitioned fresh funding for his work at the Daystrom Institute of Technology. He was attempting to replicate the construction of a D-class Soong type android and not having much luck. While Jack, like any student of history, was against a true, wide spread artificial intelligence given its past in the empire, he was willing to give more funding if it meant more D-class androids could be created for Section 31. If only Soong hadn't died before creating only a handful of the D-class, and if only his most promising students hadn't proved so inept at duplicating his work. Then there would be plenty of loyal soldiers to fill out both the special ops branch of Section and the shortage of skilled personnel on a starship. But looking back on the M 5 incident, the relative lack of Imperial AI's could be seen as a god send. When an AI can go bonkers and destroy 12 Constitutions before finally being brought down, having one on every ship doesn't look as good in practice as it did on paper.  
  
The old regime had also been far to penny pinching with its budget for Section 31. How were the watchers supposed to be effective if they had insufficient and sub standard tools to work with. Unsurprisingly, Section's budget would be greatly increased, and it would have its discretionary powers widened as well. The old regime had been hesitant to grant Section broad powers, fearful that a powerful enough organization would one day challenge them for control of the Empire. Jack had no such fears, for he knew where everyone of the Section department heads and many of their underlings secrets were buried. They wouldn't dare try anything with him, for none of them would come out unscathed. But, Section connections had helped him seize power, even if they had been duped into doing so. It was sort of a backhanded thank you to his old associates there that he reward their help. But it was also a very strong desire to strengthen his hold on power that made him increase Section's powers and budget. Section would be his eyes and ears, with greater freedom than ever before to scour out dissent to Imperial rule.  
  
Jack shifted gears, switching to fleet deployments. Second Fleet, which had been virtually stripped down to a task force thanks to repairs and the drawing off of able ships for reinforcements was ready to receive new build ships. The shipyards at Alpha Centauri, Vulcan and Sol had been putting in massive amounts of overtime to get the ships built, but now their hard work was about to pay off. With the ships of Second Fleet, the Empire would once again possess an advantage over its enemies. It was nearly time to begin obliterating the so-called Grand Alliance one faction at a time. While they might have been able to get more ships than expected from their hidden, Orion Cartel supplied shipyards, they hadn't really captured many Imperial yards intact. They couldn't hope to out produce the Empire's industry once it got up to speed. While it had been plugging away ever since the Imperial/Borg war, there hadn't been the sincere urgency to turn out ships like there was now that the Grand Alliance was a very real and evident threat. There was nothing like a credible threat to ones life to spur activity.  
  
Second Fleet's command staff were cause for concern. While there had long been suspicions that they had sympathetic leanings towards the pacifistic teachings of the traitor Spock, there had never been any actual proof uncovered. Not even the particularly dogged Commissar he had assigned her had been able to find anything seditious. And without that proof, Jack was hesitant to purge one of the best Fleet commanders in Starfleet. Possible personal leanings aside, Jack was perfectly willing to wait till the Alliance was crushed before the made his move against T'var and her senior staff.  
  
An alert chimed on Jack's personal office's communications console, and an aide immediately brought up the message on his board.  
  
"Your Highness, I have an incoming message from Starbase 2000 to all Starfleet ships and bases. It is a combat alert!"  
  
"Does the message give any specifics as to just who is launching the attack and why it warrants an Empire wide combat alert?" Jack asked as he strode over to look at the message on the aide's terminal.  
  
"No your Highness."  
  
Jack frowned then began to pace. About 15 minutes went by, then the com board lit up. It was only a handful of contact reports at first, but they grew into a steady widening river as bases and colonies all through the Delta Quadrant signified that they were under attack.  
  
"Who launched the attack?! The Voth?!" Heaven help us if those isolationist dinos decide they want a bigger piece of the local neighborhood than they already possessed Jack thought, his mind going a mile a minute. Their tech is so far advanced from ours, we wouldn't stand a chance! Hell, even the Krenim Imperium is a threat, current fleet strengths in the Delta Quadrant being what they are.  
  
Then installations and colonized systems along the Gamma Quadrant came under attack. A Starbase in the Delta Quadrant punched through the jamming to get a frantic call off. The incoming call was fed to the Imperial Palace as well as Starfleet Command.  
  
"They're too many of them!" the panicked officer on the other end of the com wailed through the static of interference. The com signal was barely getting through, the amount of jamming that would take would have to be enormous. "We can't hold them off much longer!!" Her words were punctuated by a violent shaking of the starbase and sparks and smoke flying down around her. Grabbing the console for support, she went on. "Send reinforcements imm." The com screen flared white for a brief instant, then the com screen flashed to the Imperial seal. Two blinking words flashed under it: Connection Lost.  
  
"What the HELL is going on? I want information NOW!"  
  
"The listening post near Epsilon Bootis managed to get this image before it went offline your Highness". The holodisplay shifted to show a vast armada of alien ships. "Starfleet Intelligence is putting it at 99% chance that 1/3 of this fleet are Dominion ships. The other 2/3s, within 87% certainty, are Interstellar Concordium vessels. The total number of hulls in this single fleet is over 4000."  
  
The doors to the Emperor's personal office opened just then, and Jack looked up distractedly to see his daughter enter, then shifted his attention back to the holodisplay that now showed an expanding crescent of attacked systems along the Delta and Gamma Quadrants. "What ever it is Dorothy, it will have to wait. There is a crisis developing."  
  
"I know." There was a wet crunch behind him that didn't sound right. Turning around again with a perplexed frown, he caught sight of his two personal guards as they fell soundlessly to the ground, they heads a shattered, bloody mess. Jack's eyes bulged in surprise as what he thought was his daughter extended her arms. The amber, transparent fluid like arms struck the aide's skull, punching though it like it was wet tissue paper. "Your Highness, allow me to convey the respects of the Galactic Unity." Jack was still staring stupidly at the changeling that had so perfectly replaced his daughter when the twin liquid arms encircled his neck then tightened, growing strong as steel cables. Jack was lifted off the ground, his hands frantically clawing on the immovable binds that began to crush his neck, his feet flailing in the air feet off of the ground. "This is just the beginning of the end for your Empire, but you won't be around to see the end. It is unfortunate, for I personally would like to see you suffer till the bitter end. But I have my orders, so the least I can do is make you suffer a bit before I kill you now." And then the changeling smiled as the mimicked face of Jack's daughter fell away to the more customary visage of a Founder.  
  
Grand Alliance Combined Command Council, Location Classified  
  
"Look, all I know is that something major is going on. All Starfleet assets along our boarder have gone to a heightened state of alert." The Cardassian delegate, Legate Dammar, said to the assembled members of the GA Command Council. "We have received communications from our assets in place within the Terran Empire that something is launching a major offensive along their Gamma and Delta Quadrant holdings. This concurs with our observed sudden spike in communications going to and from the outlying holdings of the Terran Empire. Something big is in the works."  
  
The Romulan representative, Admiral Jarok nodded his agreement. "I have also received word that something major is occurring in the outlying Terran Empire sectors." Just then the double doors that led to the Council Chamber swung open to admit another being.  
  
"I'm sure that all of you have by now heard of the growing assault on Terran space." Peter O'tole said. "I am here to tell you just what is going on. As of 0600 hours local time, the Terran Empire is at a state of war with the Galactic Unity. It is they who have so graciously given sufficient resources to build your hidden building slips, and it is they that now call on you to assist them in taking out the Terran Empire once and for all time."  
  
General Worf looked up from a report he was perusing from his seat at the oval table. "While I am all for removing the Terrans as a threat to the existence of the Klingon Empire, what are this Galactic Unity's plans for after they have defeated the Terrans?"  
  
"Why, then all peoples will live in peace under the banner of the Galactic Unity. It is now time for all of your peoples to repay the debt of honor you owe to the Galactic Unity for their assistance in helping to free you from the Terran boot heel!"  
  
Worf laughed heartily, his long mane of brown hair shaking as his pointed teeth showed from behind his lips. "We did not just escape from one boot heel to be placed under another. If your masters can get rid of the Terran Empire, I thank them from the bottom of my heart. But the Klingon Empire is no ones slave any longer. We shall live as WE chose to live, not how the Galactic Unity chooses for us to live." There were nods of agreement from around the table as each of the other delegates cast their support behind Worf's assertion.  
  
"Be wary of what you chose here, while the Galactic Unity will welcome the willing with open arms, even the unwilling will be made to see the light." Peter said with a slight frown. He had underestimated his control over these pawns. He had spent to much time with their overly grateful political masters, and not enough time shaping his thoughts towards the support of their military officers. While the politicians on the Klingon High Council, Romulan Senate, Cardassian Detapa Council, and the others had been malleable enough, those actually in charge of their empire's arms were made of sterner stuff. They might even be willing to go against their political masters should the need arise. He had never thought that virtually to a man, the military leaders of the GA might be true, died in the wool patriots.  
  
"Ah, so now the helpful Galactic Unity shows its true colors!" Worf growled.  
  
Oh boy had he miscalculated, Peter thought. His masters in the GU would not be happy, but they had planned for this very eventuality just in case. They were nothing if not thorough.  
  
"Take some time to think it over, I will be back in two days for your reply. Perhaps once you see just how powerful the Galactic Unity is, you will be more eager to support it." Then Peter pressed a button on one of his armband. Seconds later, a transporter beam caught him and he disappeared from the room in a swirling purple shimmer. 


	25. Chapter 22

Chapter 22 - Recon In Force  
  
Imperial Space, Near the B'hava'el System  
  
The Enterprise Battlegroup was on manuvers near the along the Cardassian/Imperial frontlines. Light raids were still sporadically launched by both sides, but till an appreciable fleet was built up, neither side possessed sufficient firepower to take and hold fresh systems without leaving others severely depleted in their mobile picket forces. That wasn't a smart move, for both the Grand Alliance and the Empire had very good intelligence of each other's space. The slightest sign of weakness would be pounced on merely to destroy infrastructure and ships even if the planet couldn't be held. And there certainly couldn't be any sign of weakness this close to the frontline of the war, especially since then Captain now Vice Admiral Ben Sisko had fought tooth and nail to halt a determined Cardassian advance on this sector.  
  
Riker thought to himself, we should have exterminated the Cardassians when we had the chance, then we wouldn't have the problem we're now saddled with. We're nearly completely encircled by hostile enemies, and they are nearly as strong together as we are alone. For now at least, for Second Fleet was only beginning its build up when the Enterprise and her fellow Sovereign class wing mates had shipped out to go on patrol along the Cardassian Front. Starfleet Command had left it up to Riker's discretion weather or not the Battlegroup would attack the Cardies or not. He was most certainly authorized to engage any target of opportunity that presented itself, but he wasn't to hazard his command needlessly. The bad hit morale would take with the destruction of the Enterprise would be a bad blow, especially if she died at the hands of the Grand Alliance.  
  
His wool gathering was disrupted by a chime from his com. "Riker here, what is it." He said after he swatted his combadge lazily.  
  
"Admiral, there has been an Empire wide combat alert announced." Lore's voice said.  
  
"Source?" The Admiral replied, the chance for combat piquing his interest. So far the patrol had been as uneventful as one before the recent unpleasantness with the Empire's subject species. The Cardassians seemed to be unwilling to attack, perhaps they heard that the Enterprise was coming and wouldn't dare attack her. Riker smiled at the thought, personally swelling his already puffed up ego even more.  
  
"Starbase 2000 Sir, in the Delta Quadrant." Lore replied nearly as soon as he finished.  
  
"I know where the damned base is Captain!" Riker snapped.  
  
"Yes sir, I apologize for seemingly implying different." Thomas doubted that the golden android really was sorry, but his hollow words had been delivered quick enough to allow it to slide. Especially since Riker really didn't know where the base was. Lore had been under his command long enough to supply little useful tidbits of information like that to his superiors that weren't bright enough or just to lazy to keep them in their own memory. It was one of the useful tricks he had picked up during his career in Starfleet to help him advance in a society that was largely anti AI. Not that Lore could really blame them, with over 12 colonized worlds having their atmospheres burned away and their surfaces turned into a ebon, glassed version of Luna, before the errant M 5 computer and the old ISS Essex that housed her were finally brought down. The final death toll had been over a billion. No, the humans had every right to fear AIs, not that it made their fear of his own self more palatable, but at least Lore could understand their point of view.  
  
That fear was what, among other things, made his 'brothers' in the D-class special ops Androids so scary. It was more what the public's imagination made up than any official mission logs or factoids the Empire's government had let slip for propaganda purposes that contributed to their mythos, just like the Furies.  
  
"Wait a minute," Riker said after a moments thought, "that's the base that that little upstart Vanguard got sent to isn't it?" The name seemed to surface from a half remembered report he had read a few days ago, something about nearly every flag rank officer in the entire sector being killed.  
  
"Yes Admiral, Brevet Admiral Ulysses Vanguard is currently in charge of the entire sector around the Starbase. It is on his authority that the alert was issued."  
  
On the Enterprise's Main Bridge, Lore's exquisite hearing picked up Riker's mumbling something about wet behind the ears upstart presuming that he could issue a Empire wide alert to possible hostilities with a major power.  
  
Lore stamped down on his initial impulse to point out that being assigned command, however temporary, by the Emperor himself gave the 'wet behind the ears upstart' all the authority he needed. That also said nothing about the Lion of Terra he had been awarded, for Starfleet Command didn't hand those things out like combadges. As much as he would personally love to show up his immediate superior, doing so would have an extremely detrimental effect on his further promotion. He was to wise on how to play the game to make that mistake. Instead he pretended not to hear Riker's comment.  
  
"Orders sir? Shall we take any special action over this alert?"  
  
"No, anything happening out in the Delta quadrant can't affect us here. Maintain scans of any Cardassian patrols nearby that we can take out. The Enterprise has spent too long in Sol system. With the upcoming offensive against the GA, I want to ensure our combat skills are every bit as good in actual practice as they are in the sims."  
  
"As the Admiral commands."  
  
The next hour, nothing unusual happened. Then in a sudden, widening flood, fragmentary reports and coms began to fill the subspace and hypercom channels. It took a while to sort them out into something resembling a complete picture, but it was rapidly clear that the Empire was under large scale attack.  
  
"I want everything we have on the tactical abilities of the, what did they call them?" Riker said as further frantic coms were picked up by his ship.  
  
"The Interstellar Concordium Tom." A feminine voice said from behind him, while at the same time he felt a deceptively pleasant sort of pressure inside his head. Riker immediately schooled his expression to its usual cocky smile, hiding his surprise as Commissar Troi entered the Flag Bridge. That woman could sneak up on an Andorian neo-leopard. Riker focused on his anti-esper training, activating the learned techniques that were part of every Starfleet officers basic training. Eventually the pressure abated, but not before there was something of an amused laugh sent into his brain. Yes, Deanna had always enjoyed playing mind games. Originally Riker had been intrigued by it, but that was a long time ago. Now it was a potentially hazardous threat to his position.  
  
"Yes, the Interstellar Concordium, that's it." Riker agreed. "I want a report on the past and projected current abilities ASAP."  
  
A young officer scurried to accommodate his Admiral's wishes, scurrying out the door to head to CIC to get their analysis and access the library computer for historical battle logs to add to the report.  
  
He was barely out the door when the red alert klaxon began to toll.  
  
"Admiral," Lore said, "sensors have spotted what appears to be a scouting party at extreme range. CIC puts it as 30 Jem'Hadar Destroyers and a double pair of Battlecruisers."  
  
"Finally some action! Order the Battlegroup to come about onto a heading." Admiral Riker consulted his tactical repeater, "330 mark 23 and engage formation Riker Alpha at maximum warp. Riker to Commander LaForge, is there a volatile nebula nearby, or perhaps some way we could hack into the Dominion's computer systems?" Both the Dominion and Imperial ships were brought out of warp by the activation of the Enterprise's warp field inhibitor as their vectors intercepted. Knowing Riker's preference towards a technological solution to combat, LaForge already had some possibilities lined up. He didn't even start into his list before a burst of hearty laughter cut him off. Riker looked irritated at the source of the interruption. Deana could barely contain her mirth, but finally brought it back under control. The Enterprise shook as the first Dominion fire hit her.  
  
"For the love of God Tom! Shoot them!"  
  
Riker just looked back with a look of slight incomprehension. Troi rolled her eyes, he might have become even better looking since they had been together, but he was still dense as a brick in a combat situation. It was only due to the fact that he kissed all the appropriate asses in Starfleet Command that he had risen as high as he had.  
  
"Oh Hell!" Troi said with another snort of laughter. She strode over to the communications console on the Flag Bridge. "This is the Flag to all units. Fire at will!"  
  
Enterprise Main Bridge  
  
". Fire at will!" Troi's voice said from the bridge speakers. Finally someone in command prodded some sense into Riker. Things on Enterprise just hadn't been the same since Picard had been executed for treason. While Riker was an adequate officer in many respects, his combat instincts left much to be desired. Lore had been on the verge of ordering the Battlegroup to open fire on his own, and was thoroughly relived that someone higher up had done it for him.  
  
Commander Yar needed no further prodding. The Enterprise had been steadily accruing shield damage while Riker made up his mind as to how to attack. The Battlegroup's Sovereigns and escorting Defiants finally swung to the offense. The nimble and tough Defiants broke formation to chase down the Dominion Frigates. The beetle shaped craft were every bit as maneuverable as their Imperial counterparts, but during the Imperial/Dominion war, they had proven easy meat to the one-two punch of PPC fire and Quantum torpedoes.  
  
"CIC says the Dominion ships have higher capacity shield grids than known variants. They recommend concentrating fire to expedite taking them out." Natasha said to the direct link to Flag Bridge even as she and the other Sovereigns birthed a firestorm of phasers targeting the first Dominion Battlecruiser. The 10 Prometheus class escorts the fleshed out the Battlegroup opened fire on the other enemy Battlecruiser, causing both Dominion vessels to be bathed in fire sufficient to rapidly shear away their shields.  
  
Enterprise Flag Bridge  
  
Riker was quietly seething that Deanna would usurp his rightful authority. He nearly missed Cmdr. Yar's communiqué.  
  
"Defiants coordinate fire in wing pairs, All Sovereigns and Prometheus', coordinate fire on the lead Battlecruiser." He ordered, his anger leaking into his voice. Troi merely looked on with a twinkle in her eyes as she leaned against the communications console for support.  
  
The pair of Battlecruisers had swung about in an attempt to outrun the sleek and Deadly Imperial Battleships. They had not been upgraded with the ISC's new damper though, that was why they were in a scouting party and not part of the main offensive fleet. They were still faster than the Sovereigns that pursued them, but it was only by a slim margin. They were bathed in hellfire as Natasha and her fellow tactical officers unloaded their weapons into them. Volley after volley of deadly blue/white orbs spat from the Sovereign's multiple foreword tubes and from the ventral turret. ECM caused only a handful to break lock, but the engagement range was so short that guidance corrections could be transmitted from the more powerful sensors and ECCM equipped motherships. None of the torpedoes missed their mark, crashing in on the helpless Battlecruisers like an avalanche. They were followed by every facing phaser array lancing into them. The discrepancy of allied firepower to enemy shield and armor strength was too great. The Imperials didn't even need to fire the twin phaser lances the packed under their saucers, which would have been overkill on such overmatched opponents.  
  
The Defiants chased down the Destroyers, tag teaming them with concentrated fire as they bobbed and weaved in evasive pursuit patters. Even though they proved tougher than earlier versions, they were still only Destroyers and they still were lacking in weapons upgrades. Their lone forward phased polaron beam and single fore and aft torpedo tube were no match for the more heavily armed and armored Imperial Destroyers. Double quad streams of amber PPC bolts backed up by triple torp quantum barrages punched through Dominion shields to gnaw at their lightly armored hides. Once this happened, the ships usually died rapidly, for they were not as toughly built as their Imperial opponents. The Dominion had always emphasized numbers over individual combat capability. It was a sound tactic given the near limitless supplies of troops they could grow, and was most evident in the design of their Destroyers. They were nimble, but weakly armed and armored, quickly built, useful in swarming tactics and the inevitable suicide runs the Jem'Hadar employed whenever they got the chance.  
  
Though they had a slight numerical advantage over their Imperial opponents, they were at a distinct disadvantage where it really counted - tonnage. They were fighting against ships that were considerably outside their weight class, and thus the outcome was a forgone conclusion. The quartet of sleek Dominion Battlecruisers died in short order, forming star bright funeral pyres as their warp cores let go. Large chunks of their hulls remained, only to be largely claimed by secondary explosions as EPS grids and internal magazines let go.  
  
The heavies in the enemy RIF squadron dispatched, the Imperial Battleships and Destroyers began to lend a hand with their powerful phaser arcs to the Defiants. The tough little ships had already taken a large bite out of the Jem'Hadar Destroyers, with more than half of their number atomized and fragmented wreckage. The enemy, sensing that the battle was well and thoroughly lost, spun almost as one to execute suicide runs on the Imperial capital ships. While this increased their threat level by several orders of magnitude, it also sent them into more predictable courses. Nearly all were flayed short of their intended targets.  
  
Two Jem'Hadar Destroyers survived the storm of energy weapons and torpedo fire, though largely hulks by the time they impacted, to hit their targets. Their beetle like hulls, already venting plasma with molten pits on their outer surface from successful weapons strikes, slammed into a lone Sovereign almost side by side on her engineering hull. The kinetic strike of something that massive traveling at close to .7 c was bad enough for the already weakened shields, but combined with the near simultaneous detonation of the pairs warp cores and internal AM stores and torpedo magazines, proved deadly. Even ablative armor can only stand so much punishment, and the combined factors nearly proved too much for the ships defenses. Slipstream One was exposed to space and largely gutted. The core went critical, melting down to slag and taking quite a few of the surrounding compartments out with it. A giant, irregular, molten wound opened up on the engineering hull of the once proud ship. Bodies and other debris streamed aft of the stricken vessel like blood before internal bulkheads and emergency forcefields slammed the breach off from the rest of the ship. Running lights and the blue glow from her slipstream nacelles died as she lost over half of her power and a good portion of her secondary hull and its vital power distribution trunks. The ship slowed to a stop relative to the nearby stars as her Impulse drive went offline.  
  
Then after a few seconds, Slipstream Two shouldered the full load for the surviving ship and the surviving engineering and damage control teams diverted power around destroyed compartments. Running lights came back on, as did the ships massive twin impulse engines, but her slipstream nacelles remained dark and dead, the port one trailing drive plasma from a large fracture about a third of the way up from the secondary hull juncture.  
  
"Admiral, Vengeance reports that she has multiple hull breaches across her engineering hull and that her port warp pylon is fractured along the 27 frame." One of the Flag Bridge officers reported to Riker even as his tactical plot subdivided to show the damage to his fellow ships. The Vengeance was the most badly hurt, but a number of the Defiants had also sustained moderate damage as they engaged over a third again their number before the rest of the Battlegroup lent them a hand.  
  
"Order SAR teams out." Riker ordered. "Once they have completed their search patterns, lock on the Vengeance with a tractor beam and engage for Bajor at max sustainable slipstream velocity." There was a slight frown on his face as Thomas computed just how the word the damage to the Vengeance and other ships in his command for his after action report to Starfleet Command. Troi's mind showed her an image of a hamster running furiously in its exercise wheel as she scrutinized her former lover from across the Flag Bridge. With another guffaw of laughter, she sauntered sultrily off of the bridge. 


	26. Chapter 23

Chapter 23 - Battle Lines  
  
Orion Cartel Dreadnought Godfather, Peter O'tole's personal suite  
  
"Damn it you aren't listening to me!" Peter shouted at the com screen. "I feel quite strongly that even with this gift the militaries of the Grand Alliance will not support your war. You are giving away a priceless advantage to them on the very slim chance that it will sway them to joining your crusade. I have met with these people, you have not. I'm telling you straight you won't win them over with this."  
  
"The Council of Five has interpreted things differently." The Meskeen on the other end of the scrambled tight beam com said, secondary eyelids nictitating across his unnervingly solid black eyes. Peter was skilled in hiding his emotion from others, one had to be in his line of work, but inside he was repulsed by the amphibian ISC representative. "And in the end, their allegiance will not matter one way or the other. If they choose to resist the gift of harmony we offer them freely, they will be brought into peace and fellowship along similar means as the Terran Empire."  
  
"Oh they'll resist, have no doubt about that! You might have their politicians eating out of your hand, but their military leaders are something else. They have just gotten out from under one set of overlords, and they aren't about to take on another set no matter how much help you offer them."  
  
The Meskeen hissed, a sound like a snake and cat combined. "After so long operating together, you still do not understand. We are not overlords, we are liberators!" He began to recite something that Peter had heard many times before. He had always felt that it was mere lip service to a hollow reasoning for conquest before, but now he saw for the first time that the ISC actually believed it. "A peaceful, harmonious and well ordered universe is the right of all sentient species. Civilizations collapse when that right is violated, therefore it must be protected at all costs. This unending war that has consumed over half the galaxy for hundreds of years must and will stop. The misguided peoples of the Alpha and Beta quadrants will be made to see the error of their ways and come to embrace the harmony we offer. Once they understand, they will accept it without resistance, for all life seeks this harmony weather they realize it or not."  
  
Peter could merely stare at the being, realizing for perhaps the first time just how alien he truly was. When he had first been approached with their offer of a mutually beneficial alliance in 2371 he had only seen the power they held. And in the long years since, he had never fully understood his partners. Never understood them till now. Shaking his frown creased face, the Orion Cartel head replied, "Just remember who warned you ahead of time when this all blows up in your face." And with that Peter cut the communication. For a long time, he just sat there in his lavish quarters, alone, mulling over the epiphany that had struck him. What he had dismissed as harmless rhetoric was now seen in a new and more realistic light. The ISC the lions share of the Galactic Unity, were true believers of their dogma. Even the Terran Empire, convinced of their own superiority, were not as united by a common belief set as the ISC were. There was nothing more dangerous than a fundamentalist willing to compel his viewpoint on others through force of arms. And he was in with just such a group up to his eyebrows, using the influence and support to eliminate his rivals and take over the Cartel.  
  
"Damn." He swore softly. He had taken the tiger by the tail eagerly enough, not realizing at the time just what it was, and helped release it on the unsuspecting galaxy, intent on coming along for the ride. For the life of him, Peter didn't know how to now let go, not without getting eaten in the process.  
  
Grand Alliance Combined Command Council, Location Classified  
  
The holodisplay above the assembled multi species command council swirled into life. On it, a composite sensor display of the Mirak Homeworld and its defending fleet and installations kicked into motion. One of the sensor contacts was highlighted.  
  
"This, Ladies and Gentlemen," Zathoran, High Admiral of the Lyran Star Empire and his species delegate to the Combined Command Council, said, "was a Terran starship operating under phase cloak in our home star. With the new sensor systems recently given to us by the Galactic Unity, we found the previously elusive prey as easy to track as a mortally wounded Raknar squealing on the savanna. As you are all aware, normal subspace sensors do not have the fidelity to pick out anything useful from the phase cloak domain. Despite years of working on the problem, none of our peoples, not even the hated Terrans, have managed to produce a sensor system sensitive enough to sniff out hiding vessels. The GU has, and has given us all numerous examples of the technology." Zathoran pressed a button on the holodisplay's controller, causing the scene above him to advance at a faster pace. The blue dot of the phase cloaked Imperial vessel scurried in system. A Lyran patrol had subtly altered its course to cause themselves and the Imperial to intercept. It was at this point that Zathoran paused and zoomed in on the relevant portion of space.  
  
What had been mere dots designating starships with slowly fading lines behind them representing their past courses expanded to small 3D representations of actual starships. They were a squadron of Cruisers. The Imperial contact resolved itself into a ghosted Intrepid class. It was colored in the ebon black and crimson of Section 31, likely one of their SIGINT/ELINT birds on a spy mission. Zathoran pressed the play button on the control.  
  
"It was at this point that we activated the device. As we were told, it forced the Terran vessel from phase cloak. We proceeded to latch our fangs around its throat. It died swiftly." On the holodisplay, the Lyran Cruisers birthed a storm of emerald splinters from their disruptor banks, and each speared the helpless Intrepid with an ESG lance. Then the holodisplay dissolved and Zathoran sat down in his chair.  
  
Worf stood and approached the daisies at the head of the oval table. "This concludes the final report on the new sensor systems and anti phase cloak device. It is now clear that all our experiences with the systems are similar, and that they work 100% of the times they have so far been used. Are there any questions?" None of the delegates made an attempt to speak, so Worf continued. "All right, on to new business. The GU has expanded their assault on the Terrans. They now control at least 100 Terran worlds and are encroaching further into Terran space with each passing moment." Many of the delegates smiled at this, or did their race's equivalent. The Gorn representative remained totally impassive except for a raspy hissing sound coming past his pointed teeth.  
  
"While I to am heartened by the Terrans current predicament, I am worried that the GU's success will inevitably harm our own independence. Have you looked at the broadcasts that they have begun sending? That, combined with their strong insistence that we join them has given me cause for concern. While they can fight alone, they are almost ordering us to join them or else. I am sure that you have all received further communication from the Orion Cartel to this effect. I for one did not pay the price in blood to overthrow the Terrans from our space only to become the obedient lapdogs of the Galactic Unity. The Klingon Empire is no ones servant." The Romulan and Ferengi delegates were nodding with concerned frowns on their faces.  
  
Peter O'tole strode into the meeting hall just then, bearing a concerned frown of his own. "You have all by now seen the power of the Galactic Unity. You have first hand evidence of their technical superiority. You have all seen the speed at which they are plunging into Terran space. I am here one last time to ask for you to add your peoples strength to ours and bring peace to the Alpha and Beta Quadrants after centuries of suffering and warfare."  
  
"I cannot speak for the others, but the Klingon Empire does not agree with your master's policies. They will turn us into shadows of ourselves, if we are to remain as an independent entity at all. In a way, they are worse than the Terrans. At least they were open in their methods. Your masters seek to bring everyone into their line of thinking weather they desire to be or not. They hide their intentions with gifts of aid and speeches of brotherhood, but they have no respect for our rights to do as we choose. We have taken our freedom back after centuries of being slaves. We will not blindly give that hard won freedom away, not even to those that slay our enemies."  
  
Many of the delegates voiced their agreement with Worf's speech, just as O'tole predicted they would. "I am not so sure your governments would so quickly dismiss the Galactic Unities proposal, especially after all the assistance they have given your people through me. Think carefully on this." He cautioned.  
  
"I have. I have thought of nothing else since your masters revealed themselves from the shadows. And I am even inclined to agree with you. The High Council is weak willed, overly grateful to those who gave us the means to rise up against the Terrans. They are blinded by it, and cannot see that the Galactic Unity is as great a threat to us as the Terrans are. But that is why they are politicians. I speak for the military, and they follow ME. The Klingon Empire will not join in your masters' war with the Terrans, nor will they join the Galactic Unity as long as it remains dedicated to its final aims for all peoples."  
  
"The Romulan Star Empire also declines to support the Galactic Unity as we do not find it in our best interests to do so." Jarok said  
  
On it went till every Grand Alliance officer said basically the same thing. Unlike O'tole, they saw the GU for what it truly was and what it would inevitably do to them. They had made their choice to fight for their freedom rather than give it away with a whimper, just as O'tole thought they would.  
  
"Very well, you have made your choice!" O'tole spat. "Just be prepared for the consequences." Peter spun on his heel and stormed out of the room, furious that a bunch of military leaders could see so easily what had been lying hidden under his nose for years.  
  
ISS Athena, Second Fleet Flagship, Sol System  
  
Capt. Vic McDermott staggered across his quarters and into the adjacent personal bathroom, one of the perks of rank. He fell to his knees and his hand flailed along the wall till it hit the flush mounted control. A portion of the wall slid back and a toilet was pushed out just in time to receive Vic's offering. When he was finally finished, Vic grabbed a towel to wipe off his face. Never get into a drinking contest where the drink of choice was something that smokes all by itself, is bioluminescent, and that tastes like it should be scouring EPS conduits, he thought to himself. It was a promise he had made many times in the past, and one that he always seemed to break, especially when the substance in question had as much kick as the mystery brew from last night did.  
  
And since Vic knew that he would eventually break his promise to himself once the memory of the aftermath faded sufficiently, it explained why he was so good at recovering from an all night bender. The old adage practice makes perfect fit his situation to a tee. He went over the sink and ran a few liberal swigs of water around his mouth in an attempt to clean out the sickly aftertaste of vomit from it. Its use finished, the toilet pulled itself quietly back into the wall. The thought of what would happen to that vomit almost made him throw up again, but he swallowed it back down. By the time he or another member of the crew would see any form of it again, it would be so thoroughly broken down into its component parts as to be virtually unrecognizable, thank God. Just the same, he forced himself to think of something a little more appetizing. He approached the rooms replicator.  
  
"Computer, one McDermott Morning After Breakfast." He growled at the idiot savant. The machine computed his command for a second, then in a transporter like whirl assembled a tall glass filled with Vic's special brew.  
  
"What the hell is that?" Cmdr. Jessica Evron said as she sauntered out from the bedroom wearing only a smile. In spite of his hammering headache, slightly off kilter balance and the foul aftertaste inhabiting his mouth, Vic managed a smile.  
  
"That, my love," he said, taking hold of the bubbling sludge green concoction, "is all you need to get over a hangover in one convenient package. Want to try some?" Vic swung the glass towards Jessica. One of the larger bubbles on the top popped with a wet slurp that sounded like it belonged in a bog and not something the human body should be ingesting.  
  
Jessica's face screwed up at the looks of the drink, but she had to admit that it actually smelled decent, a mixture of peppermint and apples. "No way are you gonna get me to drink that sludge. And if you didn't drink that rocket fuel you wouldn't need to drink this either."  
  
"Pardon me for enjoying a wee drop of the creature every now and then, unlike you and your Synthehol tap water." Then Vic tipped the glass back and drank its contents in three consecutive gulps. His eyes and squinted shut and his mouth reacted as if it had bitten into something sour, but Vic could already fell his headache and residual tipsiness dissipating. "Now as much as I love arguing with you, we better get dressed. We go on duty in 15 minutes."  
  
ISS Athena, Flag Bridge  
  
The near fully assembled ranks of Second Fleet enfolded around their Flagship on T'var's holodisplay. Her fleet had finally been built up to pre-Imperial/Borg war strength, even more powerful in some areas. All of her ancient Ark Royal class carriers had been replaced by the new Excaliburs, many fresh from their acceptance trials. The same was true for many of her Wraiths and Sovereigns, the most recent additions forming up even now after completing their acceptance trials mere hours before.  
  
The massive display of Imperial engineering and power cruised past the Starfleet Museum, new contrasting with old. Everything from egg like captured hulls of Romulan ships and the Terran ones they faced in the original Terran/Romulan war, to the NX class, to the venerable Constitution class, had a showing in the ranks of old warriors. And like those ships of old, Second Fleet was shipping out from her home stars to go make war on the Empire's enemies. It wasn't against the Grand Alliance powers as had been originally planned when Second Fleet began to build up. A new enemy had arisen, and they would have to be dealt with first before the others could be dealt with.  
  
[AUTHORS NOTE: Some of the ships in the Imperial Museum are from here:  
  
  
  
I figure the look like early starships Earth would make, so I included em. Hope you like em.] 


	27. Chapter 24

Chapter 24 - Safe Harbor  
  
Imperial Palace, Moscow, Terra  
  
Frank and Victoria had just strode out of the Palace's stairwell when they immediately noticed something amiss. The armored guards that were supposed to be standing watch at the end of the hall, by the double doors that led to the Imperial Throne Room, were instead lying crumpled on the marble floor. The pair fell into combat mode, extending both their imbedded mechanical augments as well as their biological ones to their utmost. Their perception of time slowed, yet they themselves moved as they normally would. Enhanced vision modes were activated, and twin pairs of eyes peered through the wall even as they began to sprint down the hallway. Consciousness expanded, registering two beings in the room beyond. One was recognized as the Emperor. The other was something else. Changeling, has to be. That complicated things. A normal humanoid would be easy to drop with a thought. Just cause them to go to sleep, or use a TK attack and cause their spine to sever at the base of their skull, or even blenderize their brain. A changeling was different, for there was no spine or brain to harm. Every cell in their fluid like natural form could become very nearly anything in the known universe. And in its fluid state, as much of the changeling was now, they lacked anything concrete to harm. The Furies sent burst transmissions to Palace security and medical Emergency Response Teams, but knew that they wouldn't arrive in time to affect the battle before them.  
  
Concentrate. Frank thought to his partner while simultaneously sending a mental flash of what he planned. Violent emotions bubbled forth, allowing the pair to better harness their powers just as they had been trained to. They were nearly at the door. Their combined will began to affect their target, ripping his very cells apart with the power of thought. They concentrated on the arm that was currently entwined around the Emperor's neck. The changeling began to cry out, his voice sounding distorted thanks to the altered perceptions of reality the combat mode Furies lived in. The iron like substance that had entwined the Emperor's throat was nearly dissolved through, the near unconscious leader of the Terran Empire falling out of its failing grasp. With a thought, the thick, reinforced double doors bowed in, then ripped away scant milliseconds before the charging Furies blew through the jagged hole their removal left in the doorway.  
  
The Changeling was still in the process of turning towards the sounds of the disintegrating doorway, his arm continuing to dissolve with the decay spreading down towards his body. Four phaser beams converged on his rippling amber form, two from Frank and two from the dead guards' guns hovering in midair. Changelings were known to be highly resistant to phaser fire, but nothing could stand up to the concentrated, max level fire of four phasers at once. After a seeming eternity to the Furies, the changeling exploded, sending a spray of icor across the room. After a rapid but thorough scan of the surroundings to look for anything else out of place, the Fury pair came out of combat mode. The rest of the world seemed to speed up as the response time and thought increasers were scrubbed from the Furies bodies. The Emperor was lying on the ground gasping for breath, but a cursory probing of his vitals told Frank that he would be fine. It had been a close thing, but the leader of the Empire was safe.  
  
The Emergency Response Teams began spilling into the room, power armored Section 31 strike teams with a medical team close on their heels. The strike teams formed a protective cordon around the Emperor's prostrate form, their weapons arrayed outward and their suits sensor systems probing every nook and cranny in the room. The medical teams began their own examination of the Emperor's well being.  
  
Minutes later, Director Sloan himself entered the throne room. He approached the now seated Emperor still surrounded by a cluster of worried looking medics. There was a noticeable bruise forming around Jack's neck. His eyes looked shattered, bloodshot, tear filled, but not from the personal attack that nearly resulted in his death. With the look of a drowning man reaching for a life preserver, his haunted eyes locked onto the Section 31 head. His hand raised and a shaky finger was pointed at Sloan.  
  
"You find her! Dead." the Emperor's near pleading voice caught in his throat, but he pressed on, "dead or alive, you bring her home."  
  
"As you command, your Highness."  
  
"And you make those that have taken her from me pay." There was fire in the Emperor's tear filled eyes and a snarl in his voice. Family was perhaps the most important value in the Empire, and someone had just made the current conflict intensely personal for the Emperor.  
  
--- --- ---  
  
Several minutes later, the emperor was sitting at the head of a table that housed his appointed ministers. He had funneled his pain, terror and hate into persecuting his duties. His face was like chiseled granite. The Section 31 liaison officer was currently occupying his attention.  
  
"You will release these weapons to general fleet wide use Mr. Stark."  
  
"But surely your Highness sees the sensibility in keeping these weapons in Section's hands alone. The recent involvement Starfleet had in bringing down the Terran Council should clearly show this. Starfleet cannot be trusted with."  
  
"ENOUGH!" Jack roared, cutting the Section 31 officer's stock reply off mid delivery. "Preliminary reports show that this union of the ISC and what's left of the Dominion have weapons systems that outrange even proximity torpedoes. When combined with their speed advantages, there is virtually no way we can even engage them. Without these weapons, there will be no Starfleet left in action for you to worry about. You seem to be under the misconception that you have a voice in this decision." The Emperors voice went deadly cold. "You do not. You will tell your superiors that they will release both all local stockpiles and the plans for these weapons to sector command centers immediately or they will answer to me personally. Am I making myself perfectly clear?" The Emperor said dangerously. There was no doubt amongst his ministers as to who had the power in the room, they collectively blanched, with the Section 31 turning the whitest of them all.  
  
"Yes your Highness!" He managed to gulp out.  
  
Flag Ready Room, ISS Valley Forge, Delta Quadrant  
  
The SAR teams had only just returned and already there was celebrations breaking out on Lilith. Some of the local political leaders were already declaring a yearly celebration in honor of the victory. Ulysses brow furrowed as he frowned at the news feed his desktop terminal showed him. He took a sip of the strong raktajino housed in the mug cradled in his hands. The civilians seemed oblivious to the sacrifice he was forced to make to protect them. Tens of thousands had died with the loci battlestations and attached starships. Thousands had died in his own battle line as they engaged the second ISC fleet. And judging from the reports flooding in from all along the frontier, those losses were going to hurt in the long run. The Galactic Unity had starships to spare, and they were, for the most part, using them smartly. With their superior speed and weapons reach, they could peck away at fixed defenses and Imperial fleets. It still took time to break down system scale defense nets even with their PPD's, but since they could dictate the battlefield it was their time to use.  
  
Ulysses frowned anew as he mulled over the military realities facing him, trying to come up with a solution. One thing was certain, the GU wouldn't make the same mistake twice. They had wanted to make the takeout of Prescott's Star a true blitz. They got fancy, instead of concentrating their forces and slamming his command till it broke. Their forces had attempted a pincer movement, trying to catch him between them to crush him quickly. As a result, he had been able to beat back the initial assault. Yet given the faster speed and greater weapons reach of the GU fleets, he shouldn't have been able to do even that much. Must have been a bunch of green COs, Ulysses thought. Makes sense given that their whole strategy seemed to revolve around Prescott being an easy mark. They did what I would do, keep my more experienced and smart COs together to take out stiffer opposition and send the weaker ones to the softest target. Good thing my staff and I managed to get this place whipped into shape before they struck, or they might have had the cake walk they expected.  
  
Ulysses forces had drove the enemy to retreat, though many had retreated largely intact and combat worthy. And as the systems surrounding Prescott were taken out, as even now reports were coming in that they were being over run, the enemy forces could concentrate and reattack the sector command. He had given the opposition nasty shiner, but round two wouldn't be long in coming and his enemy would be alert that he could fight.  
  
And even though his forces had won, they had paid a heavy price. The Loci Defense Forces at both Loci Kappa and Delta had been butchered. All Battlestations had been destroyed or thoroughly wrecked. The mobile forces were nearly as bad, with only a handful of Loci Delta pickets surviving in various states of disrepair. Loci Kappa forces were better off, for the unexpected allies Voyager had brought with it had proven highly effective in aiding the battlestations and fleet units. Their exotic weapons systems both shut down impulse and thruster control temporarily, they also threw the targeted ship away from them. As helpful as they were, they had still only lightly limited the Loci Kappa Picket forces losses.  
  
Ulysses was unsure how to proceed with them. A meeting was a given, but with the current political situation in the system as it was, he didn't really have the authority to deal with them. His promotion to flag rank was only a temporary expedient to solve some unexpected and unusual problems. He didn't have the customary authority in dealing with alien governments a usual military governor of the Terran Empire would. He would have to come up with something, but he would wait till he heard what they wanted first.  
  
The things he did have authority over were humming along nicely however. Wounded ships were already being cycled through the vacant yard slips, with damaged bulkheads and hull breeches repaired thanks to replicators, transporters and tractor beams. Those ships waiting for a slip began emergency repairs on their own, sending out work bees and hardsuited engineering teams to patch up the holes in their hulls as best they could. Ulysses com chirped and he swatted it absently  
  
"Vanguard here."  
  
"Admiral?" the com officer on the other end of the line said. "We have a handful of units clearing system perimeter IFF. They appear to be friendlies."  
  
"I'm on my way." Ulysses said, getting up from behind his desk and setting his half empty mug of Klingon coffee back in his ready room's replicator on his way out. He strode out into the flag bridge.  
  
"Admiral on the bridge." The honor guard officer said.  
  
Ulysses nodded in acknowledgement to his subordinates. "As you were. So, who are our reinforcements?" He said as he strode to the chair at the center of the bridge.  
  
"They appear to be a Battleship Squadron and escorts. Their IFF says they're the 5016th BB Squadron out of Mosaul. Flag vessel is the ISS Conquest, Brevet Commodore Giles Bastigon commanding." Mosaul was a nearby system, home to 2 million colonists.  
  
"Open a channel."  
  
"Channel open Sir."  
  
"Commodore Bastigon, this is Admiral Vanguard." A small com window popped up on the holodisplay.  
  
"Commodore Bastigon here Admiral. It's good to hear a friendly voice. We thought that you might have been removed from this system already when we set out for here."  
  
"The enemy tried, but we proved more bothersome than they expected. Tell me what happened at Mosaul."  
  
"They sent in a fleet on us Sir. Blew out our deployed pickets from beyond our own weapons range." The young Commodore winced at the painful memory then pressed on. "They outnumbered us by four to one, and out-massed us by at least ten to one, and with their weapons range, there was nothing we could do." There was almost a pleading quality to the young officers voice. Ulysses knew well what that was caused by. He believed that he had failed in his duty. Officers that did that often weren't looked well upon by their superiors. "They were also faster than we were, so we couldn't close to our own weapon range unless they let us. And they played it smart and didn't do so. They kept scurrying away just out of reach, all the while picking away at us with fighter strikes and their damned PPD. All my attack attempts were accomplishing was maiming my command for no gain. So I broke off pursuit and left the system." Giles looked like a man waiting for the firing squad.  
  
"Commodore, your course of action was exactly right. There was nothing you could do for Mosaul." Ulysses showed a ghost of a smile as the young Imperial officer looked like a 100 ton weight had been lifted from his shoulders. Your usual Imperial Flag officer would have at least dressed him down for retreating in the face of the enemy, even if it was the right thing to do. "Stay where you are. Engineering, Medical and Security personnel will be sent out to your command. Once they are satisfied that you are who you say you are, arrangements will be made to get your damaged ships and injured crew patched up."  
  
"Aye aye Sir!" There was a note of startled awe in Commodore Bastigon's voice.  
  
"Very good, Vanguard out." The com window closed at Ulysses gestured command. He turned towards his com officer's station. "Lieutenant, com Captain P'tel and Commander Heidberg and have them coordinate with system medical, security and engineering departments to see to Battleship Squadron 5016ths needs. Also send out a message on sector wide com. All Starfleet units are to fight in defense of their assigned systems if possible, but withdraw to Prescott's Star if faced with overwhelming opposition."  
  
"Recorded for transmission Admiral."  
  
Ulysses nodded. Then the sensors highlighted another group of ships entering the periphery of the system. It looked like it would be a busy day just organizing traffic and incorporating all the additional ships into the rest of the fleet. 


	28. Chapter 25

Chapter 25 - Thunderhead  
  
Galactic Unity forward command and control base, near Gamma/Alpha Quadrant boarder coreward  
  
Pacification Fleet Prime Supreme Overlord Brakiel rested his towering five and three quarter meters height in a comfortable chair ringed with atmosphere hydrators. The ancient Meskeen was well past 2000 years of age, with all the wisdom his long life afforded him currently bent towards the analysis of 901st Pacification Fleet's after-action report. He had served in the ISC's Peaceforces since his youth, back when the Terrans were still using metal swords and armor to kill each other. He well remembered how the handful of species, his own included, had clustered together, combining their fates and common goals of galactic peace and unity into one political organization. And he also remembered the fateful day when the Veltressai far seers had brought their horrible vision of the future forward, changing the ISC's policies forever.  
  
They spoke of the day when the destroyers would come, that they would endeavor to consume the galaxy and the sentient peoples of it, leaving nothing in their wake. It was this terrifying vision that had dominated the ISC's galactic agenda virtually since its inception. United, the galaxy stood a chance to stave off destruction, but divided as it then and still was, they would be picked off one by one. At first, the ISC had tried to bring other species into peaceful cooperation through peaceful means. But while they met with considerable success using this tactic amongst their local star cluster, external species, some with thriving empires of their own, were a different story.  
  
Many were non-espers, unlike the varied species of the Meskeen's home star cluster. They as such lacked the ability to read the sincerity of the ISC's desires, many in fact afraid of the possible threats the esper races posed to them. They ignored the ISC envoy's overtures at best, starting armed conflict with them at worst. This opposition to peaceful coexistence couldn't be tolerated, especially in light of the threat the far seers foresaw. So ISC policy shifted from peaceful promotion of unity to unity through force of arms. Even so, the ISC advanced slowly, utilizing internal opposition to the current government to aid in making the shift into the ISC as bloodless as possible while always striving for a peaceful incorporation whenever possible. The ISC wasn't out to conquer after all, they were merely doing what must be done if the galaxy was to survive. In many, many cases, the vast majority in fact, once the pacified species had experienced ISC's rule of law, they rightly found it preferable to their old systems. True there were some systems that required greater means of persuasion of the rightness of ISC membership than mere examples of ISC justice and time, but they had always proved the minority.  
  
Not so with the Terran Empire. The far seers had dreamt of them in their visions, and what they saw disturbed them greatly. The Terran Empire did not seek to unite the galaxy. They sought only to destroy and spread their cancer across the cosmos. They posed the single greatest known threat to uniting the diverse peoples of the galaxy. As such, they needed to be removed as soon as possible. Unfortunately, Brakiel's immediate predecessor had not succeeded in wiping out the threat of the Terran Empire. He had come tantalizingly close, but had failed to take into account just how devoted and highly motivated the Terrans were to their misguided ideals. Nearly 200 years of propaganda backed them, making it very hard to convince the Terrans to change beliefs ingrained in them since they were babes in arms.  
  
The first Pacification attempt of the Terran Empire had been crushed as a result. Brakiel was determined not to make the same mistakes his predecessor had made. Old Uziot had been too cautious, endeavoring to utilize the minimum amount of force possible. As a result, his Pacification Fleet Prime had been insufficient to the task of eliminating Terran resistance. By the time reinforcements arrived, they proved to be too late to be decisive. After overrunning over half of Terran held space, Pacification Fleet Prime was pushed back inexorably, finally being forced from their last foothold in Terran space nearly 90 years ago. That devastating upset had forced the ISC to flee it's home systems in the Gamma Quadrant, retreating to the Gamma/Delta boarder along the fringe of the galaxy.  
  
But the ISC had used those 90 years to repair its shattered fleets and make them grow even larger than they had ever been previous. New, more potent weapons systems were devised and installed. Armor and shields were bettered. In total secrecy, in a remote, isolated corner of the Milky Way, the ISC had built up the largest military force in the galaxy. The hundreds of billions of souls that made up the ISC were a fairly large force to draw from, and with modern mater synthesis replication nearly all could be part of the Peaceforces. The new home worlds had been virtually stripped of citizens as the starships and ground forces were assembled. And with the addition of the ISC's newfound allies, the Dominion, the Terran Empire would finally be brought into the peaceful unity that was the ISC.  
  
The 901st Pacification Fleet's actions finished their run on the holodisplay as the last Galactic Unity ship fled through the corridor locus. The bottomless ebon pits of Brakiel's eyes narrowed and for the first time in ages he felt the weight of his years pressing in on him.  
  
They brash, young Q'Naabian Fleet Marshal that had commanded the 901st had failed to take all pertinent information into his decision making process. While he was almost as good at his job as he thought he was, his boldness had blinded him to the realities of his opposition. With word of the 901st's defeat, Brakiel had poured over every scrap of information in the ISC databanks about the young Imperial officer responsible for temporarily stymieing the Galactic Unity's pacification of the Prescott's Star system. What he found had startled him, which was something quite unexpected for one as 'experienced' as Brakiel was.  
  
Ulysses Vanguard was a competent officer, carrying out his assigned duties with exemplary fashion. Yet he seemed to be prone to almost careless violence. He ascended to Captain rank by murdering his CO, and his Academy file was filled with black marks of unnecessary violence against fellow cadets. More recently, he had a band of pirates summarily executed. Yet despite all this violence, he was fiercely protective of both innocents and those serving under him. The pirate incident exemplified this, for even though there was not a proper esper investigation into the events, and the punishment he chose was rather severe and permanent, given the weight of physical evidence it was in all likelihood the proper decision.  
  
The young Imperial Officer had also shown a flair for creative problem solving, coming up with original and unexpected solutions to the military problems posed to him by his Academy instructors. Just such an original solution was used against the 901st. OWPs that were light enough to be easily moved by an active fleet formation were not tough enough to stand up to Line Battleship and Superdreadnought weapons fire. Everyone knew this, which was why no one ever thought about bringing them along into a firefight. But not Ulysses Vanguard. He brought them along anyway, and their added firepower had given his initial volleys much heavier weight than would otherwise be the case. True the lack of protection light OWPs was the reason they were so rapidly dispatched once they were used, but the initial volleys had proved decisive, for they had chewed a gaping hole out of 901st's hammer.  
  
And in reality, although OWPs were expensive, their replacement cost were far outweighed by the total capital ships they had allowed Ulysses to damage or destroy outright.  
  
The fact that if 901st CO had attacked with less flair for the dramatic he would have won was beside the point. The pincer attack chosen by 901st CO had given his Imperial counterpart an opening that allowed him to defeat the attack. And the Imperial was smart enough to take it with both hands. It wouldn't save him from a future assault done with competent tactics utilizing every advantage the Galactic Unity possessed over its adversary. If the 901st had just attacked in a single massed force, even though the assault would have lasted far longer than a successful pincer attack would, it would have been guaranteed of success. 901st CO had always been far to preoccupied with the fictional deeds of Q'Naabian heroes rather than with utilization of tactics and strategies that would work best in real life.  
  
The pincer movement attack could even had worked, resulting in the speedy elimination of the Terran's mobile forces in Prescott's star, but only if the Terran fleet did exactly as the plan laid out for them to do. Such a plan was not one to rely on, for enemies rarely were so cooperative. EW drones had fooled the ISC forces long enough for them to commit to the attack plan. They were caught nearly completely unawares when Ulysses brought the majority of his mobile forces from under the powerful ECM put out by the Battlestations. A short warp jump into the Pacification Fleet's path resulted in the range and speed advantages they possessed being nullified. The use of light OWPs towed behind Imperial warships resulted in the Pacification Fleet's slight firepower advantage being nullified. The young Imperial that had risen to control the sector after the GU's successful decapitation strike had not only made the defenders even more cohesive and better trained than they had been under their old superiors, he had stopped the pacification of the only major obstacle in the sector through his ingenuity and luck.  
  
901st CO had failed to take all the unexpected changes the decapitation strike had wrought into account when laying out his battle plan. As a direct result, he had died when the mangled warp cores of his heavily mauled flagship breached early on in the battle.  
  
"A pitiful performance." A matter of fact voice said from behind the Supreme Overlord.  
  
"You feel you can do better?" Brakiel's nasally voice said evenly as he slowly pivoted his chair to face the white, sky blue and gold clad Peaceforce officer.  
  
"Yes sir, I do."  
  
"Such confidence from one so young."  
  
"Sir, you know as well as I do that it was Fleet Marshal T'krit's tactical blunders combined with his overconfidence that enabled the enemy's victory over his forces."  
  
"And you have no qualms about fighting your own kind?"  
  
"None sir." The reply came without any hesitation and with total conviction. The human's voice went cold as he continued. "I am not Terran, Sir, anymore than you are. I resent being associated with those. animals." She voiced her view of the Imperial's like she had tasted something sickening. "I was born a citizen of the Interstellar Concordium, and will remain a citizen till I die."  
  
Brakiel eased himself out of his large chair and began to pace, his towering frame looming over his lone companion. He found the human practice useful for collecting his thoughts. "Very well, Fleet Marshal Teresa Chora. Since you are convinced you can do better than the late Fleet Marshal T'krit, you will take the 1294th Superdreadnought Battlegroup and its escort to rendezvous with the 901st survivors in System 61003 A. You are charged with striking Prescott's Star and bringing the system and it's defenders into the peaceful unity that is the ISC."  
  
The usually dour human's face light up with a brilliant smile. "Thank you Supreme Overlord. I shall prove your faith in my abilities well deserved."  
  
"I expect nothing less Fleet Marshal. And I urge you to use caution with your confidence. Do not underestimate your opponent. He may be young and inexperienced, but he has done more to advance the enemy's combat readiness than the entire Fleet's worth of flag officers did before him." The middle- aged, Asiatic Human female nodded back at him, her expression serious again. When a commander as old and wise as Supreme Overlord Brakiel spoke, subordinates would do well to listen to his informed council.  
  
The particular subordinate before him now was one of the most promising officers to come from those that had fled with the ISC during the first Pacification Campaign against the Terran Empire. Billions had chosen to join the ISC's ranks, even in the face of the resurgent Terran Empire that eventually forced them away from their final foothold in the Alpha quadrant. They were a diverse bunch, including Humans, Romulans, Klingons and a plethora of other, less populous species. They were dispossessed, not having any worlds of their own, but shortly thereafter, ALL member species of the ISC had no worlds to call their own. They had packed up their civilization lock, stock and barrel and moved as far away from the ever growing blight of the Terran Empire as was possible, almost to the direct opposite corner of the galaxy. There, they had rebuilt their civilization and rebuilt their fleets, preparing for the day when they would again send their Peaceforces out to Pacify the Terrans.  
  
An aide entered the flag holodisplay room of the massive ISC SM-class Super Monitor One, named Unity before she had even finished construction by her first captain. She was easily comparable to Voth Cityships in size, designed from the keel up to be the centerpiece of Pacification forces operating far from ISC held space.  
  
"Supreme Overlord Brakiel, Peter O'tole sends his regards and wishes to convey a message to you." The Gorn like Pronhoulite aide said.  
  
"Yes, what is it?"  
  
"He says that the self styled Grand Alliance races have refused to aid us in removing the Terran Empire. He further says that they will view any breach of their sovereign space as an act of war."  
  
The Supreme Overlord of Pacification Fleet Prime sighed, another useful trait adopted from the Humans. "While unfortunate, this chain of events wasn't all that unexpected. The Grand Alliance species have spent to long under the cruel boot heels of the Terran Empire to recognize the truth of our offer." Inner eyelids blinked closed over his eyes, carrying the soft sheen of accumulated water droplets with them. "Issue the necessary orders to activate Battle Plan Korikuk."  
  
"Should 17th Fleet be diverted from their impending attack on the Bajor Sector Sir? They should be in position to strike within a day, and their position will place them the closest to Grand Alliance space than any of our other active fleets."  
  
"No. Advise them to divert into Cardassian space once they have secured the Bajor Sector. 421st Fleet will take over the 17th's assigned Imperial targets. Have a fresh list of Cardassian targets assigned to 17th Fleet as soon as possible. This Pacification Campaign has just gotten a little longer, but thanks to our Dominion allies, we have sufficient hulls to continue aggressive persecution of it." 


	29. Chapter 26

Chapter 26: The Emissary Rises- By CaptainChewbacca of the TrekBBS (aka Peter Knudson)  
  
"In here, Jake!" The voice giggled in the dark.  
  
Young Terran smiled as he stooped and moved from the bright sunlight into the cave. "Alright, Lirinn, let's see what's so great about these 'Ice Caves' you keep telling..." As his eyes adjusted to the dim light, two shapes holding disruptors became visible. Jake Sisko swallowed at the sudden dryness in his mouth. "You don't want to do this, really. Do you know who my father is?"  
  
A hand rested on his shoulder. It was Lirinn, his lover. He searched her eyes for anger or betrayal, but found none. Confusion furrowed his brow. "It's alright, Jake. They won't shoot, you are not to be harmed."  
  
"Come with us." The taller of the two Bajorans gestured with his disruptor toward the back of the cave. One walked ahead of Jake, the other behind, with Lirinn at his side. Jake's mind raced, trying to think of what could be going on. Were these Bajorans with the Circle? Religious fanatics? Rumors had been circling that spies from the so-called 'Grand Alliance' ranged far in the Imperium, all the way up to the top military ranks. Could someone unhappy with his father have arranged for his kidnapping? The Bajorans were loyal citizens of the Imperium, and had been integrated almost sixty years with few incidents.  
  
As they came to the back of the cave, the lead guard, the one who had spoken, pressed a rock which looked no different from any others, and a portion of the tunnel wall disappeared. They went inside, and Jake stopped for a moment. Inside was an immense cavern, perhaps a kilometer across. They walked around an elevated ledge which ringed the room, and as Jake looked down he could see cooking fires and lanterns glinting in a sea of tents; a whole city underground.  
  
As they descended to the floor, a shout went up from the village, and from the tents poured Bajorans. Men, women, and even children stood and watched. Some were smiling and waving, a few were cheering, and many had stern looks on their faces as they held weapons close. Jake had no illusions about what they wanted to use those guns for. As they walked, the crowd began to grow thicker and he could see their faces. The people were tired and dirty. Disgraceful for citizens of the Empire, but what could be expected from aliens?  
  
"Are you going to kill me?" Jake spoke in a low tone to Lirinn.  
  
She took his hand. "No, something else altogether. But just wait."  
  
A few people threw stones at Jake, but the lead guard fired a shot into the ceiling. "None of that!" He shouted down the growing murmur. "He is under the protection of the Kai." They walked Jake quickly through the village to the far side, where a low archway was flanked by another pair of guards. The entourage stopped, and the lead guard turned to Jake. "Only you are to enter."  
  
"What's in there?" Jake had a bad feeling about what was inside. But his escort was silent. Lirinn only smiled and clenched her hands together in anticipation. The young Terran went inside. The tunnel was narrow and dim, with only a single lamp illuminating it. He walked slowly to the corner and turned, coming suddenly into a small library. At least that's what it looked like. Jake was a writer, and the smell of old parchment tickled his nostrils. A small fire on a hearth lighted the room and cast strange shadows. Stacks of books and scrolls filled two walls of shelves and covered a table. He almost didn't see the room's occupant because a stack of books hid her in her chair.  
  
"I have been expecting you, Jacob Sisko." The tiny robed form stood slowly. She turned to Jake and for a long moment the two looked at each other. She was a tiny Bajoran woman, no more than one and a half meters tall, and very old. There was a cold light in here eyes, but a slight smile on her face. She stepped forward and in an instant grabbed Jake's ear. A cold finger and thumb pinched the skin, but not painfully. Her eyes closed and she breathed deeply. "Your pah is strong, Jacob Sisko. The prophets words always find the true path."  
  
Jake pushed her hand away. Now that the guards were gone, he was starting to get annoyed. "Prophets? What are you talking about? Do you know who I am?"  
  
The old woman turned away and went to the fire. "Such demands from one so young. Which shall I answer first?" She retrieved a steaming kettle from the fire.  
  
Just play along and get out of here, Jake thought. "I guess first tell me who you are."  
  
She walked past him to the table and started rummaging amongst scrolls for cups. "I am Kai Opacca, servant of the Prophets." She handed Jake a cup of steaming liquid and sat in the large overstuffed chair. Opacca pointed to a chair in the corner, motioning for Jake to sit down."  
  
The young Terran tried to speak with dispassion, remembering some of his father's lessons in diplomacy. On Bajor, a Kai was a religious leader, and if he remembered correctly, the 'Prophets' were the less-hedonistic of Bajor's two sects of spirits. Jake had heard horror stories of the violence caused by the cult of the Pah Wraiths. "I greet you, Kai Opacca. If you know who I am, you must know that my father is the Vice Admiral of this sector, and will not permit me to be held. He won't pay you ransom, he'll just send an assault team. The Imperium protects its people well." Somehow, Jake didn't think he sounded as menacing as his father.  
  
Kai Opacca sipped her tea and then waved his words away. "You misjudge us, Jacob. We are not Terrans, who attack and conquer without provocation. I asked Lirinn to bring you here so I could ask for your help."  
  
Jake suppressed a laugh. "My help? What makes you think I'll help you?" This woman is insane.  
  
"Yes, your help. We wish for you to take a gift to your father, Admiral Sisko." She leaned to one side and picked up a box. It was the size of a small strongbox, but of beautifully carved wood.  
  
Now Jake was curious. "What is it?"  
  
She slowly opened the box and took out something wrapped in cloth green cloth. She carefully removed the wrapping and Jake leaned forward. In the old woman's hands was a small box perhaps only twenty centimeters on the side. It was roughly trapezoidal, with glowing blue gems decorating the center of each face.  
  
"What is it?" Jake reached out to touch it, but Opacca grabbed his wrist and looked into his eyes.  
  
"It is the Orb of the Emissary, sent by the Prophets for your father long ago." She let go of his wrist and started to wrap the orb again. "We wish for you to give it to your father. He will know what to do with it when the time comes."  
  
Jake stood up and walked to the fire, warming his hands. The hand he had reached out with was very cold. "Let me get this straight," a slight grin on his face, "These Prophets of yours told you to kidnap me and give me a magic box to give to my father? Why?"  
  
"Ours is not to question the Prophets, young Sisko." Opacca stood and handed the box to Jake. "Ours is but to follow our destiny. And you, you Jacob Sisko, have a great destiny." She looked up at him, her smile growing. "You will take the will of the Prophets from this place, and be the herald of the Emissary."  
  
--- --- ---  
  
Captain Kira's cloak billowed behind her as she stalked across the promenade of Deep Space Nine, driving the few shoppers out of her way like a gust of wind. Normally, the Captain of the ISS Saratoga kept her pace more measured, with dignity that her position demanded. But some logistics reports had taken longer than she didn't want to miss the debriefing.  
  
She stepped into the turbolift and smiled slightly as the doors closed. That thick-headed Terran, Admiral Riker, had gotten his battle group knocked around by a Jem'Hadar patrol, and had come in for repairs. Kira shook her head, wondering how the Imperium she loved could promote Terrans like him while loyal non-Terrans like herself had to fight for advancement. It would be sweeter than a jum-ja stick to see him dressed down by Fleet Admiral Sisko.  
  
Her musings were over in an instant, and as the turbolift rose into station ops, she made her face a mask of stone. A young ensign towering at the door in armor announced "Captain on deck!" and as one the Terrans, Bajorans, and Vulcans snapped to attention. She dismissed them with a nod. Her people feared her, and with good reason. She was the highest-ranked Bajorans in Starfleet, and the only "lesser" alien to be ranked so high in a sector fleet. Kira descended the stairs and crossed the room, cursing the Cardassian design. It was the Terran's sense of irony that made DS9 the only Cardassian military outpost still in existence, well it used to be. As Kira climbed the stairs she could already hear Sisko's voice. He was more on edge these days, with the Cardassian resurgence making his sector of vital strategic importance. Sisko was tough on his officers, but usually fair. Right now he was being tough on Riker.  
  
The door opened. ".. and you are telling me that you are short six Defiants, two Prometheus cruisers, and the Vengeance is so badly damaged my engineers tell me it's a tossup whether scrapping her would be a better use of resources." Admiral Sisko was in fine form today, his thundering voice filled the room and he was already pacing behind his desk. A datapad was wagging in his right hand like a snake. Across from him stood Riker and his second, Captain Lore. Kira shuddered as the android's eyes studied her for an instant. She had heard stories about the androids of Section-31, and he was their prototype.  
  
"With all due respect, sir," Riker was trying to keep his voice measured, and fairing poorly. "the battle group was outnumbered almost three to one. Only superior firepower helped us to counteract their maneuverability."  
  
Sisko raised the datapad and studied it. "Ah yes. Thirty Jem'Hadar destroyers and four battle cruisers. It must have been terrifying- How ever did you manage to survive?" He cocked his head and for a moment there was a smile on his face. Then it vanished as he slammed the datapad on his desk, smashing the small thing into pieces and causing his baseball to jump out of its stand. "By dumb luck, that's how!" Sisko picked up his baseball and began to spin it in his hand. "I have read your report, Commissar Troi's report," he nodded to the Batezoid reclining in the corner "and Captain Lore's report. I even read the sensor logs from the Enterprise, and I was shocked. Do you know what I found out, Vice Admiral Riker?" He looked into Riker's eyes, and the mutual hatred glowed between them. Riker remained silent.  
  
Sisko tossed his baseball and caught it. "Captain Kira, what does the Starfleet code of military conduct say in section two, paragraph four?" Kira was his favorite Captain. He hoped she would play.  
  
And Kira didn't like Riker either. She stood straight. "Sir, when an Imperial force has encountered an enemy force and has determined it to be of inferior stature, it is to attack immediately taking all possible precautions."  
  
"Ah, attack immediately. That is correct, Captain." Sisko turned to Riker. "Are you familiar with the Starfleet code of military conduct, Admiral?"  
  
Riker kept at rigid attention. "Yes, sir."  
  
Sisko smiled. "Good, for a minute I was worried. Do you know how long it was between the detection of the enemy force and the Enterprise's engaging of the enemy? EIGHTEEN POINT FOUR SECONDS!" He spat out the words like fire. He spun around and looked out the window. "Eighteen point four seconds! And, after the enemy force had ALREADY closed to weapons range and fired on the battle group, did you order an attack?" The silence in the room rang in Kira's ears. Sisko turned around and leaned across his desk. "Did you order an attack after being fired upon, Admiral Riker?"  
  
"No sir."  
  
"NO YOU DID NOT!" Sisko pushed away from his desk. "The good Commissar had to order an attack after your indecision became so painfully obvious that even SHE could see what needed to be done. Captain Lore!" The android shifted from his motionless stance. "Captain Lore, what would your course of action have been?"  
  
The android clearly did not want to answer the question, for fear of earning the animosity of either of his commanders. "Sir, I was not in command of the force, and may not have been privy to-"  
  
"Yes, yes, you want to keep your job." Sisko waved away the rest of his sentence. "What would your course of action have been?"  
  
"Sir," Kira could almost here the processors inside the android crafting the proper response. "I believe if I were in charge I would have dispatched the Defiants in pairs on Destroyers, two Prometheus's and one Sovereign per Battlecruiser, and sent the last Sovereign on overall cover, shepherding the Defiants." For a moment it seemed Lore would continue, but he closed his mouth.  
  
Sisko clapped. "Excellent strategy, Captain. You are a credit to the Empire. But YOU" he pointed at Riker "are something less. Perhaps one day I will tell you exactly what that is. In the meantime," He put down his baseball and picked up another datapad and tapped a few keys. "I am entering a formal reprimand into your record, and am requesting a review of your status as battle group commander." He handed the pad to Riker. "Do you have anything you wish to say, Vice-Admiral?"  
  
For a pair of heartbeats Riker stood fuming, then seemed to subside. "No... Sir." He took the pad.  
  
"Then all three of you are dismissed." Riker spun on his heel and left, followed by Lore, and Troi. The doors slid closed.  
  
Kira burst out laughing. "Did you enjoy that, Admiral?"  
  
Sisko sat back in his chair and started gathering pieces of datapad off his desk. "Yes, yes I did." He smiled. "It's a shame, so many valuable ships in the hands of that man." He gestured to the chair opposite his.  
  
"What keeps him in his chair?" Kira relaxed in the plush cushioning. The Terrans had improved on the Cardassian design.  
  
"Nepotism. Nepotism and the unwillingness of Starfleet to admit its mistakes." He picked up his baseball and tossed it to Kira. "Makes you wonder if Twain was right about irony after all."  
  
"Twain, Sir?" The admiral was a literary man, always quoting his ancient American authors which Kira couldn't tolerate. Not at all like the poetry of Jetain.  
  
There was a far off light in Sisko's eyes. "Never mind about that. Still, that Captain Lore shows promise, don't you think?"  
  
"Some, Sir." Kira had seen that light before. She knew Sisko was thinking about the future of the Imperium, and what Captain Lore could do for it. It was why she admired the man. They both believed in the Imperium, really believed. It was why she had killed her captain, and why Sisko had pardoned her and made her his Flag Captain. They were kindred souls.  
  
"Now then, Admiral." Kira pulled a datapad from the desktop. "I have the new analyses of fleet combat performance drills for your review, as well as construction summaries for the new defenses..."  
  
--- --- ---  
  
Director Garak strode slowly through the command section of the Cardassian Hutet Cardassia's Song, his dark expression cast an aura of worry around him which drove the crewmen before him like a whirlwind. From humble beginnings as the son of a poor tailor, Elim Garak had traded secrets and information with his Imperial masters and done it well. He had pitted one greedy Terran against another ambitious one time and again, all the while securing supplies and information for the Unionists. Sixty years of occupation and humiliation was now over, and hope shone from the face of every Cardassian. Except his.  
  
Garak climbed the steps to the Command dais and pressed the door panel. The doors silently opened, and he stepped inside. Seated behind the immense desk, Gul Damar was looking over a stack of status reports from the various leaders of the fleet. The ruddy glow of the subspace corridor illuminated the dim room. Garak knew that Damar enjoyed his kanar off- duty, but when he was working he let nothing distract him. He glanced up when he heard the door. "Good day, Director. To what do I owe such a visit?"  
  
"There has been an incident on one of the Terran Superdreadnoughts." A note of gloating was in Garak's voice.  
  
Damar continued to study his reports. "Yes, I know. Most unfortunate."  
  
"Unfortunate??" Garak laughed. "My dear Legate, I would hardly call the accidental triggering of the tactical counterinsurgency holograms and the loss of the entire crew 'unfortunate'. The ship had to be destroyed."  
  
"As I said, unfortunate." Damar looked into Garak's eyes, reading his meaning. "But we must continue with our mission; no delays." He picked up another PADD, but Garak wasn't finished.  
  
He snatched the PADD out of his hand, and Damar rose to his feet. He was not about to be challenged in his own ship. "Damar, look around you!" Garak stepped back but spoke with force. He knew he had just one chance. "Our new-found empire is barely six weeks old, and our borders are far from protected. And yet, here we sit in the midst of a new and untested fleet with faulty ships on our way to attack the most heavily defended Imperial world in this sector. Attack and conquer it. Eighty years ago the Imperium and the Bajorans destroyed our homeworld, and now our vaunted military leaders want revenge."  
  
"Do you think I don't know that?" Damar leaned over and snatched the PADD from Garak. He set it on the desk and walked over to a cabinet. "Do you think I don't know that Legate Dukat and his peers are idealistic fools who think we've already won this war?" He opened the cabinet door and took out a bottle of amber kanar and a pair of glasses. "In seven hours I am to lead a fleet against a heavily defended Terran world with barely enough forces to match them gun-for-gun." He filled each glass with a few centimeters of the liquid. "Don't you think I argued with central command for five hours against this?" He handed Garak a glass and then pounded down his own.  
  
He set the glass on the table. "Cardassia has to be more than strong. It has to be feared. And the central command thinks the best way to do that is to keep our enemy off guard, and to do that, I am to conquer Bajor in the name of the Cardassian Union."  
  
Garak studied his drink, and tasted it gingerly. "And what do YOU think, Legate?"  
  
"I think..." Damar chose his words carefully. The Obsidian Order was always searching for chinks in the loyalty of officials. "...I am loyal to Cardassia, and will carry out the orders of the central command. I am ordered to engage the Imperial Fleet at Bajor and conquer it, so that is what I will do."  
  
"Hmmm... very well Legate." Garak drained his glass and grimaced slightly. "To our victory!" He spun on his heel and left. As he passed the communications pit, he tapped a few buttons on a console. No one would question him, they wouldn't dare. A light flashed on the panel, and Garak's carefully disguised signal leapt into the void. He walked to the turbolift and smiled slightly. One last card, and he had played it. He wasn't about to let one fourth of the Cardassian fleet be dashed upon the rocks and shoals of ignorance. The Order protected Cardassia, even from its own leaders.  
  
--- --- ---  
  
In a dark, remote room on Imperial Listening Post 21419 in the center of a hollow asteroid, a panel of lights sprang to life. A long-ago written code hardwired into the system overrode its normal functions, sending a massively encrypted data file to a receiver somewhere deep in Imperial space. If the automated outpost could reason, it would have wondered why high-level intelligence messages were being sent between two governments at war. But ILP21419 couldn't reason, and didn't care. For three tenths of a second its transmissions were interrupted as it sent its tight-beam transmission. No had one noticed the lapse in function, and no one ever would. 


	30. Chapter 27

Chapter 27 - Small Victories  
  
ISS Valley Forge, Commissar Stevens' Personal Quarters  
  
Commissar's Log, Supplemental The situation at Starbase 2000 has rapidly improved, due in large part to the actions of my primary charge, Ulysses Vanguard. While at first, I found his command style strange and unworkable, I now am pleasantly surprised by its results. The base has changed in the few short weeks we have been here from Starfleet's unofficial dumping ground for those that irritated their superiors to a potent fighting force. Where I thought his light handed approach would cause no end of problems, it seems to have had the opposite effect.  
  
One development that I am keeping a close eye on, and one that is an offshoot of the previously opposite effect, is the rising cult of personality springing up around young Mr. Vanguard. It has merely intensified after the successful repulsion of the Galactic Unity assault. While still not of a level warranting any special action, it is something I am keep a close eye on. The base personnel have begun speaking of him with a sort of reverent awe, even dubbing him with the honorific moniker 'The Skipper'. The civilians of Lilith are even more unabashed in their hero worship, for it was Mr. Vanguard that saved them from being overrun by the forces of the Galactic Unity. The local government has even declared a yearly celebration to be held in Mr. Vanguard's honor, to the wild jubilation of Prescott's Star's civilians.  
  
I endeavor to remain on top of both the Starfleet and civilian side of Mr. Vanguard's rampant and growing personality to ensure neither becomes a threat to the Empire. One never knows just how loyal an officer truly is, especially if he becomes to well aware of how powerful a position he has.  
  
I have encouraged Starfleet Command to expedite the relocation of Flag Officers to Starbase 2000 to prevent exactly that. Both the public and military of Prescott's Star have become too fixated on Captain Vanguard for my liking. It will be better once there are others in-sector to assume command from him, but till then I must remain vigilant.  
  
ISS Valley Forge, Flag Dining Room  
  
The cobra necked alien delegation was at the far end of the long dining table, seated next to Cavit and his senior officers. To their left, man tall vertical windows allowed the snowy orb of Lilith to shine through. Voyager's Captain was just finishing up recounting how the Vaadwaur and his command had met.  
  
". so then we lit off of Vaadwaur Prime and set a course for Prescott's Star because it was the closest Imperial base." Cavit said as the stewards cleared away the remnants of dinner from the spotless white linen table cloth.  
  
"An interesting tale Captain. And I must say it was very fortunate that the Vaadwaur decided to lend us a helping hand when they did. They made the GU forces at Loci Kappa pay a far stiffer price than they would have otherwise, and they bought us the time we needed to intercept their other pincer before they could join together. I wish to offer my thanks to both the crew of Voyager and our new Vaadwaur friends." Ulysses said. All things considered, the mobile forces at Loci Kappa had gotten off with only a handful of casualties, and it was due in large part to the Vaadwaur's Flux Wave weapon. "The Emperor has sent word of his personal thanks as well, and hopes that diplomatic talks between the Empire and the Vaadwaur will be as fruitful as our partnership in the defense of Prescott's Star has been."  
  
A beat after Ulysses had finished, one of his aides entered the dining room and whispered into his senior's ear.  
  
"If you will excuse me, I have to take care of something that cannot wait." Ulysses said, standing to leave.  
  
The rest of his personnel clustered around the dining table stood out of respect as he left, then reseated themselves as the stewards brought in desert. It was apple pie a la mode, and the assembled Imperial Officers and Vaadwaur began to make polite small talk amongst themselves as they pecked at it.  
  
ISS Valley Forge, Flag Ready Room  
  
Ulysses forced the snarling darkness that threatened to engulf him back into its cage. Seated across the desk from him was the cause of it. The officer was a Captain, but not of Starfleet. He wore the black, crimson and silver uniform of Section 31, the uniform of the real enemy, the uniform of those that had killed his parents in cold blood. Ulysses made his face remain neutral and his voice normal, having had years of practice in ensuring a seamless mask over his true feelings was in place. It wouldn't do for both the Section visitor and his personal watchdog leaning against the wall to have him erupt in front of them.  
  
"So Captain, to what do I owe you and your Battlegroup's visit?" Ulysses said with a casual wave to the false window behind him. The flawless computer projection framed the ebon black and red forms of Section Akiras and their escorts back dropped against the yellow boil of plasma that was Prescott's Star.  
  
"I have been ordered to distribute a new weapons system to you by Section High Command." The Section officer said, his tone clearly indicating what his personal opinion was of those orders.  
  
"And what might those new weapons be exactly?"  
  
The Section officer made a sour face, like he found the mere mentioning of the weapons to a Starfleeter offensive. But he reached down and pulled a PADD from the leg pocket of his uniform. He seemed to hesitate for a brief instant, his ingrained desire to keep the new weapons a Section only system warring with orders from on high. Then he slid the PADD across the desk to Ulysses. Ulysses scrolled through the description and statistics of the new weapons Section was giving his command. His eyebrows rose upwards and his lips pursed in a silent whistle.  
  
"So these new torpedoes have a reach basically the same as that of the GU's PPD as well as improved ECCM, speed and yield wrapped up in a same sized package?"  
  
The Section man bobbed his head once in a curt nod, a scowl on his face.  
  
"Well now. this changes things a wee bit. How many are you planning on leaving me?"  
  
"I have orders to give you all of Section's local stockpile. It should be enough to outfit your Battlestations for an extended engagement as well as most of your launcher heavy Fleet units."  
  
"And with these plans, the local armories can begin to turn out more of them almost immediately." Ulysses said. Starbase 2000 was designed to be the stepping off base for colonization of the Delta Quadrant. As such, it was very nearly as industrialized as many Imperial core worlds.  
  
"If that is all Sir, I'll take my leave of you and depart from local space." The Section officer said, already standing and turning to leave. It was a coldly calculated act of disrespect on the Section Captain's part, but Ulysses chose to let it slip. It would make what he was about to spring all the more satisfying.  
  
"Actually, there is one more thing Captain." Ulysses said, and the Section officer stopped in his tracks and turned to face him again with narrowed, suspicious eyes. "As per General Order 9, I am impressing your ships into service in defense of this sector until such time as I deem them no longer necessary." Ulysses dark inner demons howled in glee at the stunned expressions that flashed across both the Section officer's face and his Commissar's.  
  
"But. you CAN'T." the Section officer sputtered.  
  
"On the contrary, G.O. 9 says I can, and in my current situation, I WILL." Ulysses said evenly, but the look in his eyes left no room for a contrary opinion.  
  
"But you're only a Captain." the Section officer tried again, only to be cut off a second time by Ulysses.  
  
"And I'm also a Brevet Vice Admiral and Sector CO until my relief arrives on-station. As such I can invoke G.O. 9 on any Imperial asset, ANY, Captain, that I so choose. Your Battlegroup will make an excellent addition to my force, and it is not one that I intend to let slip away."  
  
"But you have no right, my Battlegroup is under Section jurisdiction, not Starfleet."  
  
"'Any Sector or Fleet CO, in a time of emergency, can override the orders of a locally deployed asset of military, intelligence or civilian sectors of the Terran Empire, save for the fact that they are already under orders from a higher authority. G.O. 9 Section 1 Paragraph 1." Ulysses said with a sly smile. "Now my good Captain, since you are currently under no such orders, you will obey my lawful order to join my fleet. If you choose not to, I will place you and your seignior officers in the brig and have you up on charges of treason and dereliction of duty. I need more ships, and you have them. So either you cooperate or you face a court martial and I place prize crews in control of your ships. The choice is yours Captain, but I suggest you choose quickly." The corners of Ulysses mouth continued to remain upturned in a satisfied smirk, complimenting the devilish gleam in his eyes.  
  
"Admiral Vanguard, I must say this course of action is most unprecedented." Commissar Stevens said, casting an irritated look at her charge.  
  
"Commissar, Section 31 is an Imperial asset. Unless you can prove to me otherwise, I don't give two hoots as to how unprecedented my actions are. They are allowed by both Starfleet and Imperial law. I am charged with defending this sector and it's civilians from invasion, and that is something I take deadly seriously." He turned his now icy gaze on the Section Captain. "Your ships won't be much additional tonnage to my order of battle, but I'll take any additional tonnage I can get, no matter where it comes from. Am I understood?"  
  
The Section Captain turned a startling shade of puce but a jerky nod twitched out of his rage filled body. Section didn't like being told what it could and couldn't do, especially by a hopped up Starfleeter. Yet in this instance, with the invocation of G.O. 9, they could dislike it all they wanted and it wouldn't alter a thing.  
  
"And I assume you have decided to join my forces to defend this sector?" Ulysses continued. The upgraded Section Akiras and their supposedly normal Defiants and Achilles that escorted them would pose very little actual combat firepower, but Ulysses truly would take any and all ships he could get his hands on.  
  
Again he got a jerky nod in reply, and the Section Captain's eyes were filled with venom. He was most certainly not used to being treated this way by a Starfleeter, let alone a Captain with delusions of grandeur.  
  
"Fine, my staff will contact you shortly for your fleet assignment. Captain, you are dismissed." Ulysses spun his chair 180 degrees, turning his back to the impotent Section officers, and began entering commands into his personal terminal, acting as if they had already left.  
  
The pair of Section officers stared at the back of his chair for a few moments. Then, with a primal snarl, the Section officer spun on his heel and stalked sullenly out of Ulysses ready room. Commissar Stevens followed him a moment later with an exasperated sigh. Ulysses smiled like a Cheshire Cat. It was a minor victory, but even small victories can be very fulfilling when they allowed one to tweak Section's nose and get away with it.  
  
ISS Valley Forge, Flag Briefing Room  
  
". now with these new torpedoes, we have the range and firepower to pretty much level the playing field with the GU's PPD." Ulysses said to his assembled cadre of command officers. "They might still be faster than our heavy units, but our ships with slipstream can get past this deficiency by using tactical FTL micro jumps and our fast attack and fighter squadrons should hold em in range. The orbital factories are already spooling up to produce more of the torpedoes, and I hope we can get some more before the next GU assault comes in. Now I was planning on placing a majority of the new torpedoes on the battlestations and on Starbase 2000 herself. I would like to hear your thoughts on this."  
  
Ulysses sat back in his chair. There had been a visible release of tension when he had told them that the next time the GU fleet came calling they would have a little surprise in store for them.  
  
"I'd say it's the best platform for them Skipper." Davenport said almost immediately. "At least until we get more of them anyway. With all the launchers on the battlestations and Starbase 2000, they'll be able to put out an ungodly number of them, and their long range punch should come as a nasty shock. What I really like about them is their new overloaded shield grid paired with the new impulse thruster assembly. Normal torps shields are impenetrable, but the suicide overload shield grid limits their max range. These have a time delay activation that is reprogrammable from tactical. This means that they still have the near invulnerability normal torpedoes do, but you can extend their range considerably by having it come on once it nears the enemy rather than immediately. When paired with the extended range thrusters, you have a potent weapons system."  
  
Ulysses nodded his agreement. Making an impulse drive with enough endurance to cross light minutes of distance packaged into a torpedo sized casing while still including all the other things a torpedo needed to execute it's primary function had been so far unachievable. When one needed space for the warhead, seeker systems, datalink and penaids, it put a crimp on a weapon as small as a torpedo. Starfleet had looked into larger torpedo weapons systems, eventually resulting in the heavy photon. But till recently, most Starfleet ships were too small to mount effective numbers of these weapons in their internal magazines. Starfleet had even experimented with external box type launchers, but had dropped the idea when they proved excessively difficult to harden to weapons fire and to reload in a combat situation.  
  
"In addition, I'm also happy to report that the 501st Marine Expeditionary Unit has found its way here. Their Galaxies have already dropped their troops, and General Bradley tells me that Lilith's militia is surprisingly good for a group of civies. Add to this their extra Phaser Lances will be a welcome boost to our overall long range firepower. But best of all, the 501st MEU picked up some mine layers for their fleet train somewhere. I've already put them to work seeding the most probable avenues of approach." For a major system with a lot of infrastructure, Prescott's Star's secondary defenses hadn't kept up with the near constant expansion of deep space industry. Minefields were light, as were the systems anti warp and sensor nets. Past station SOs hadn't made making and emplacing better fortifications a priority, hence why they were in such a sorry state.  
  
"But I think that the GU won't be as accommodating as they were in their initial assault." Ulysses went on to his attentive officers. "They'll likely drop out of the corridor network early and come in at warp from an unpredictable bearing. And they'll be concentrated this time, without the fancy coordination and maneuver that cost them last time." Faces pinched around the conference table. They were experienced officers, and they knew that an enemy that had resources to burn like the GU seemingly did would hit them hard when they inevitably returned.  
  
"They are coming back ladies and gentlemen, make no mistake of that. But when they do, we'll give em another black eye, just like the first time." His officers' faces showed determination mingled with a small yet healthy dose of fear. They knew they would likely have to pay a stiff price when the enemy came calling, but they were ready and willing to do so in order to protect the civilians on Lilith. They were no longer thinking or acting like the gang of rabble they had been when he had first came on station. They were now a finely honed blade, tempered in the crucible of battle. They were also willing to follow wherever Ulysses led them. They were, many for the first time, guardians, caring more for their duty and their protection of others rather than themselves. Ulysses felt extreme pride in getting them to rise to their present status. Yet doubt stalked deep in his soul. It asked him in a seductively sweet voice just how many would be left alive after the next attack, preying on his weaknesses. It caused Ulysses to wonder just how many empty chairs there would be around his briefing table after the next battle. 


	31. Chapter 28

Chapter 28 - Assassin  
  
Ulysses' Quarters, ISS Valley Forge  
  
A blizzard blew its icy breath about him, howling like the demons of hell as it bit at his exposed flesh that peeked past his heavy jacket. Billions of snowflakes swirling, blocking out all save that which was his immediate surroundings, with even them shrouded in near obscurity. He felt totally alone, with a growing sense of unease, like something was watching him from a hidden position just beyond where he could see. Ulysses unease grew, and the hair on the back of his neck stood up underneath his tightly drawn hood. He began to quicken his pace through the near knee deep snow, but the farther he went, the deeper the snow got. Soon, it was nearing his waist, slowing his pace to a crawl. Outright terror began to course through Ulysses as the grayed out world around him darkened, reducing his stunted field of view still further. The wailing walls of snow enshrouded him, muting his cries as he called out for help.  
  
Then there was a light in front of him, and relief coursed through Ulysses, joining the adrenaline surge of his fight or flight response. Out of the swirling torrent of snow emerged a small figure clad in white fur. The figure held the source of the light, a flashlight, in one tiny hand, appearing to be searching for something. Catching sight of Ulysses, the figure paused for a moment, then approached him cautiously. The figure walked not through the snow, like Ulysses had been reduced to, but on top of it, as if her diminutive form was insufficient to leave more than faint impressions in the snow pack. As she approached close enough for Ulysses to get a good look at her, he saw that she appeared to be a young human girl of about seven or eight years of age. A lock of ebon hair fell beneath the hood of her white fur coat to lie across the white porcelain skin of her forehead. Her lips were pale blue, almost like those of a suffocated person, but they were not what held Ulysses attention. Her eyes were a very ghostly blue, almost pure white, and they didn't look quite... human. Yet for their alien-ness, they were at once familiar and inviting, showing no ill will towards him. They welcomed him like a long lost friend, and a small, perfectly girlish smile perked the corners of her blue hued lips. As if coming to a decision, she gave a quick nod of her head.  
  
The moaning of the storm, the chill bite of the sub zero air, the driving snow flurries, even the thoughts of being stalked from the shadows melted away from Ulysses. All he saw was the girl in white. As if in a state of awed wonder, he reached out towards her with an outstretched hand. She tentatively raised her own small hand, slowly bringing it towards Ulysses own. The instant they touched, it was as if Ulysses touched a live wire.  
  
Ulysses jerked upright in his bed, eyes wide, his heart beating a mile a minute, muscles twitching as if unsure weather to freeze or snap into instant action. Terror gripped him, but he wasn't sure what it was from. The dream itself gave him no real cause for it, for he was actually calming down towards the end of it. Giving his head a quick shake, as if to clear away the last vestiges of sleep, Ulysses laid back onto his mattress. Soon his heart rate slowed. "What a strange dream." He mumbled, then drew the covers back up over him and closed his eyes, falling soon thereafter back to sleep.  
  
Starbase 2000, Prescott's Star  
  
Unity operative 11J fumed silently under his disguise. Yet again his plan had been stymied by the Sectors new SO. The Galactic Unity's invasion force had been thoroughly manhandled and forced to retreat. They never even got to within striking range of the substantial fortifications orbiting Lilith, and the carefully hidden extra code added to an otherwise benign program that had spread to nearly 2/3rds of the stations orbiting Lilith wasn't able to be utilized. If the Founder had believed in gods, he would have cursed them for dropping the damnable solid on him, ruining all of his plans time and again.  
  
But new orders had been given to him by his superiors, and he was delighted that they were finally taking his reports seriously. Nothing like loosing a good part of a fleet and throwing initial battle plans into turmoil to get their attention. If the fools had taken him seriously, none of this would be necessary. The Galactic Unity would be in control of the system and on it's way forward, deeper into Terran space. The lightly defended and lightly colonized holdings in former Dominion space in the Gamma Quadrant had already been near totally overrun, most of the Terrans only making a half hearted attempt to defend them when faced with superior numbers and PPD fire from beyond their own max weapons range. His old homeland had only been lightly affected by the transfer of control from the Dominion to the Terran Empire, for it was shortly after their successful campaign against his people that the Terrans encountered the Borg. The Terrans' losses incurred in eradicating them had slowed expansion of the Terran Empire to a virtual standstill.  
  
While Operative 11J had no idea of the long range military plans of the GU, just incase he was somehow caught alive and handed over for interrogation, there was a regular stream of communication between himself and his superiors through various 3rd parties. He had to be far more careful now that non-military traffic was competently searched, but there were many places one could hide secret messages aboard a starship. The searchers were primarily keeping an eye out for things like explosives and weapons and spies, not for illegal correspondence. While alert, operative 11J didn't feel particularly at risk, even with the increased security concerns.  
  
However, with his new orders, he would have to ensure that his escape was ready to execute, for he wouldn't be able to remain hidden once he executed them. The beehive he was about to tip over would surely cause him to be hunted down otherwise. His PADD let out a discreet chime, and he activated it. His dour expression was creased with an eager smile. The discreet data acquisition software he had uploaded into the Starbase's primary computer core had just sent another burst to his PADD. To all monitoring devices, it would appear to be a mere scheduling change command, but it was in actuality a upload of the latest movements of Prescott's Star's seignior officers. This was just the opportunity he needed. He left his assumed quarters to put the necessary plans in motion, both to execute his new orders and ensure his getaway.  
  
Lilith, City of Eden  
  
Ulysses smiled and waved back to the cheering throngs of civilians, then turned and walked through the waiting aircar's hatch. A man could definitely get used to such attentions, he thought. Being a hero definitely had its advantages. Being sector governor did as well. It was under this hat that he had called for a meeting of prominent Lilithians. He had given them leave to initiate elections for an advisory committee to the Starfleet Governor. They were as large a concession as he could wrangle out of his Commissar, but he had sent a recommendation up the chain of command that Prescott's Star was ready for independent civilian administration. Nothing might come of it true, but it just might become fact with the sway he was gaining with Starfleet's upper echelons. While he didn't truly consider himself a hero for his actions, thinking them merely the successful execution of his duty and oath to Starfleet and the civilians of the Empire, there was something to be said for the respect and power it gave his recommendations to his superiors. Better to make the recommendation while he could to, for the first batch of new Flag Officers was slated to come in-system within a few days. Ulysses hoped that they wouldn't undo all that he had accomplished for Prescott's Star in his short tenure as Sector Governor.  
  
Ulysses could have ordered his ship to beam him back up, but he had never truly surveyed the bustling capital city of Prescott's Star and used his meeting as a pretext to do so. As such, he had taken both a shuttle down and an aircar to and from his meeting with various influential citizens of Lilith. While not as awe inspiring as the massive forest of alloy spires of Terra, Vulcan, Alpha Centauri or any number of core Imperial worlds, the city of over 400 million strong was quite impressive. The yellow primary of Prescott's Star was setting behind the towering sky scrapers to his right, casting everything in pleasant reds and warm oranges. Steady streams of aircar traffic threaded their way through the sky above, moving along the invisible pathways assigned to them by Eden's central traffic computer.  
  
While most people used the planetary mass transit transporter system, sufficient number of them chose to use their aircars, allowing them to see their beautiful city far more than the transporter network allowed for. It also allowed them to go to areas where the limited utility mass transit net didn't service. Rather than spring for a fully capable transporter system for civilian transport use, the Empire had decided for a more limited version that only went from point to point, much like an old Earth subway system or bus route. While some might complain at the slight inconvenience this caused, it drastically simplified sensor and computational requirements for the system as well as allowed for near 24/7 transporter inhibitor use throughout the rest of the city. With terrorists having access to high-powered explosives and transporters, the Empire had learned early on to ensure that it controlled all transporter activity on its planets.  
  
Ulysses strapped himself in to the copilots chair, smiling to himself that Starfleet Regs didn't let Flag Officers fly themselves dirtside. "Well Lieutenant, are we ready to proceed to the spaceport?" Ulysses asked the very young officer that was his pilot/chauffer for the duration of his stay on Lilith.  
  
"Yes we are Skipper." There was a slight breaking of his voice, showing he was more than a little nervous. He was more used to less larger than life superiors, and was more than a little uncomfortable at Ulysses polite but resolute insistence that he take the copilots station rather than the more customary rear bench seat.  
  
"Then proceed at your discretion." Ulysses encouraged with a half smile  
  
"Aye Sir." He said, then proceeded to activate the sporty luxury aircar's AG drives. Aside from a soft whine, there was no sound other than the throngs of people surrounding the grounded aircar. Seconds later, the aircar was lifting off on its quiet drives and flying down the path assigned to it by Eden Traffic Control. His pilot, though young and nervous, was an exceedingly talented stick, handling the fighter like throttle and side stick controllers like a seasoned pro. Since Ulysses conveyance was a special case, it was assigned its own skyway on a more direct route to his destination than was the norm. Once the Lieutenant was certain that the complete course was uploaded, he handed control over to the aircars computer autopilot.  
  
"Well done Lt. Theisman, that's some excellent piloting skills you have."  
  
"Thank you Skipper!" The now beet red Imperial officer said with a smile that was more boyish than anything else.  
  
Was I ever that young?, Ulysses thought. Then, Am I really that old? Ulysses nearly snorted in laughter, here he was not even 30 years old yet, and likely to go far beyond that given his heritage, and he was already thinking like an over-the-hill coot. Relaxing in his chair, Ulysses turned his eyes from the holographic skyway to look through the dome like one-way transparent bubble that capped the aircar. They had ascended quite high, and were now above the scattered cotton puffs of the cloud deck. The gleaming alloy spires of Eden still towered above their course, their lights gleaming in the growing twilight. Overhead, one could easily see the shapes of the OWPs and Battlestations that stood guard over the planet. Near the far west horizon, where the sky had already turned a deep navy blue flecked with stars, the Nightingale Yards could clearly be seen, their massive structure blocking out a good portion of the western sky near the horizon. The city was truly a beautiful place, cosmopolitan without having to go too far to reach relatively virgin land, a relatively uncluttered sky for such an important system. Ulysses was glad he had decided to use shuttles and aircars rather than the transporter. It reinforced just what he was fighting for. These people needed to be safeguarded. While there were worse fates than being removed from the Terran Empire and incorporated into the Galactic Unity, incorporation into the Galactic Unity wasn't the best option either.  
  
While Ulysses hated the excesses of the Terran Empire with a passion that at times threatened to consume him, he had learned long ago that not all, or even most of the Empire's citizens were evil and deserving of death. Many were in fact just like he was, trapped in a system he couldn't control and unable to change things. He had truly come a long way from the hate filled teen he had once been. He had funneled his anger and rage into something that was bigger than his own schemes of revenge, and in doing so had gained some distance from it. It was still there, always a part of him, always threatening to gain the upper hand, but he could now see that true change must be wrought on the system from within if it was to fix things. Anything less wouldn't solve the problem.  
  
Eden, Rooftop of Tower 602  
  
Tower 602 wasn't one of the brightly lit titans that made up Eden's downtown core, but it did have its uppermost floors peeking just past the cloud deck. The top of the roughly cylindrical spire was flattened out, allowing for an emergency landing pad and various transmitters and receptors to be planted on it. Operative 11J walked out of the roof access door amidst the forest of vane and spine antennas. He strode across the roof to a seemingly benign access panel. The changeling popped it loose, tossing it skidding across the smooth armorcrete surface of the rooftop. Now exposed to light for the first time in close to half a year was one of the agents many contingency plans. With rapid, deft movements, Operative 11J began to assemble it. 


	32. Chapter 29

Chapter 29 - Assassin  
  
City of Eden, Ulysses' Aircar  
  
The sleek form of the sporty black aircar cut through on course between the stacked levels of local traffic. The cloud deck was a fiery crimson turning towards purple bubbled plain below him. The near countless windows of the downtown core's towers cast their glow to reflect off of the suspended water droplets that wreathed them. They cast long shadows as their forms interrupted the nearly set sun's final rays.  
  
Ulysses was lounging in his copilot's seat, his eyes staring out the aircar's bubble canopy, seemingly entranced by the near perfect grid lines of fellow aircars that passed above and below his own. For once in what seemed like a very long time, he was at peace. He relished it, for he knew it would only last a short time. He even was able to ignore the assault shuttle that had slipped silently in behind his aircar, trailing it at a discreet distance. Being the current leader of the sector, and with the assassin of the previous ones still at large despite a system wide dragnet, certain precautions had to be taken to protect him. Both aircraft were going considerably slower than their max speed, not even edging the sound barrier, in order to comply with Eden airspace safety and control guidelines. It would still be a few minutes flight time to the Spaceport because of this.  
  
Ulysses wished that he didn't have such a near unbearable weight to return to. Even with his solid cadre of loyal officers, it was a very heavy responsibility he had assumed when he took the reins of power into his hands. As much as he was concerned over any new senior officers Starfleet assigned to the sector, part of him was almost glad that the crushing responsibility of safeguarding billions of lives would no longer be his alone.  
  
Suddenly, he felt a spike of wrongness in his head. It wasn't exactly unpleasant as much as it was unexpected and alien, yet almost at once was familiar. In his minds eye, the little girl from his dream appeared. Her piercing blue eyes were concerned, and she parted her blue hued lips to speak with a distinct British accent.  
  
"You are in danger, you are not safe."  
  
Then the presence in his mind was gone, as if turned off like a light switch. Ulysses blinked, shaking his head a few times as if to help clear it. In its wake, a feeling of crushing dread washed over him. It was much the same feeling he had had when the Section 31 ship had tried to turn 2nd Fleet into part of a new planetoid. It was telling him to alter course immediately.  
  
City of Eden, Police HQ, that same time  
  
"Captain?" A young sensor tech asked.  
  
"What is it Horrowitz?" The department's shift CO growled gravely. Appropriately named Quentin Justice, he was a man of 42, balding gray hair, and carrying a slight paunch around his middle. He wore the near black navy-blue uniform of Prescott's Star's System Police Force. He had been a law officer on Altair before he had joined the first wave of colonists to Prescott's Star. He had remained in law enforcement here, and was now a well respected individual in the local community, known for enforcing equality under the law for all citizens.  
  
"Just got a blip from security monitor Tango Charlie Four Nine. Unauthorized power source on the roof of Tower 602."  
  
"Do we have a drone to poll for data in the area?"  
  
"Yes sir, I have already dispatched a Sierra Roy Six covert recon drone to give a look see. Should be onsite in about 50 seconds."  
  
Quentin nodded. "Good job Horrowitz." The young officer beamed at the praise.  
  
It had been a relatively uneventful day, as if even the cities criminal element was unwilling to spoil The Skipper's visit. It was still an uneventful day, likely the unknown power source was merely a service team suffering from a fowl up of authorization. Just the same, the Book said all such occurrences had to be looked in to. And for good reason, for a rooftop with a heavy weapon was prime terrorist real-estate. The damage one could do to the air traffic, or even nearby towers if he had sufficient firepower would be considerable.  
  
City of Eden, Roof of Tower 602, that same time  
  
The final piece of his weapon slotted together and locked in with a satisfying click. The heavy HVM launcher unit completed its self tests and lit the appropriate telltale lights along its base. It indicated that all four of its missiles were ready for launch. Taking a stroll to the opposite side of the rooftop, Operative 11J slipped the control VR glasses over his eyes. His hands plugged a datalink cable into the PADD he carried, allowing the data from the City Traffic Control computer hack he had emplaced to be shown in his VR glasses. They showed the normal rush hour, ray pattern grid, the traffic coming and going with precise precision and razor straight lines. All save one small, inobtrusive black aircar with a considerably more noticeable, predatory form trailing behind it on an identical course. They had a special lane all to themselves, and priority clearance through Eden airspace to the adjacent Spaceport. That was his quarry. Had to be.  
  
Lining up the targeting crosshairs over his prey with his VR glasses, Operative 11J smiled lightly as the HVM launcher on the opposite corner mimicking his head's movements. Initial aim point was critical when the range was as short as this, for the speed of HVM's meant that they had very little time for in-flight course correction beyond relatively minor adjustments. Satisfied that he had an adequate lock on both targets, Operative 11J pressed the launch commit button on the HVM unit's stick style controller and waited half a heartbeat. The unit received the launch commit command, and popped open the guard doors on the front of its quad launch cells. The unit didn't need to use its onboard sensor suite to get guidance instructions, for Eden's own ATC computer was giving it all the data it needed.  
  
Their warheads consisted of nothing outside of the missiles themselves, little more than javelins of extremely dense battlesteel. These were not the smaller, man-portable versions, these were the heavy ones, as big around as your arm. An unassisted man could barely raise them from rest in standard G, but Operative 11J's adaptive muscles merely shifted to a form that COULD lift them in Lilith's slightly stronger than Terra standard gravity. Faster than an eyeblink, the four heavy HVM's ripple fired from their launch cells and their impulse engines slamming them to velocities upwards of 95 PSL.  
  
City of Eden, Ulysses' Aircar, that same time  
  
"Descend. Now!" Ulysses ordered. His tone demanded instant compliance.  
  
Lieutenant Theisman hesitated for the briefest instant, but word had percolated throughout Prescott's Star's Starfleet ranks that when The Skipper gave one strange orders, it was best to obey them. It had saved quite a few lives in the past, and as such merely added to The Skipper growing larger than life mythos. Almost before conscious thought, he had shoved the side stick controller as far ahead as he could while simultaneously slamming the throttle stick to its forward detent. Autopilot automatically disengaged, and near instantly a giant hand forced Ulysses deeper into his seat as the peppy aircar snapped to respond to the pilot control inputs.  
  
City of Eden, Police HQ, that same time  
  
The spherical, golf ball sized SR-6 RD was finally coming into range of Tower 602. Its sensors sent a real-time data feed back to Police HQ, dumping it to Trooper Horrowitz's terminal. He looked over it, with Captain Justice looking over his shoulder. Quentin's eyes bulged in dawning horror.  
  
"Jesus Cr." Horrowitz managed to squeak before quad trails of dazzling incandescence snapped into being from the business end of what could only be a heavy HVM rack. At virtually the same instant as they appeared, they were virtually drowned out by the day bright flash from somewhere to the camera's left. It light up the twilight like a temporary second sun. Then the signal went haywire as the tiny RD went tumbling to the right, out of control.  
  
City of Eden, Roof of Tower 602, that same time  
  
11J's first two missiles tracked perfectly, striking the aircar's escort squarely on it's pilot compartment and AM stores. While both were heavily armored, they couldn't withstand a Heavy HVM strike on their own. And since the assault shuttle wasn't in a combat situation, they had their shields down. Just the same, the Empire made their assault shuttles tough. Her entire front end disappeared into a boil of harsh light with the first HVM strike. A split second later the rest of the ship was gutted as her AM storage pod was breached. Out of the brilliant glare and shockwave of the detonation, the shattered remains of the assault shuttle tumbled down towards the distant ground.  
  
The second two HVM's also tracked well, but for some inexplicable reason, the aircar had begun a steep dive. They struck further back from their intended aim points, ripping the aft half of the aircar free in an eye tearing boil of light and sending the relatively intact front spiraling away. This was good, for his primary target was likely dead thanks to the rear passenger compartment's virtual disintegration.  
  
The explosion of the assault shuttles AM stores created a temporary second sun for the city of Eden. Those unfortunate to be looking near directly at the blast were blinded. The aircar traffic in the general vicinity was scattered like lake water from a thrown stone. Some of the less lucky ones careened into buildings.11J was fortunate he knew the blast was coming. His from reverted from its rock like state to his natural gelatinous, amber form. It reformed into the smooth featured humanoid shape his kind favored when not liquid. 11J walked over to the edge of Tower 602, continuing to watch his target spin towards terra firma. The light cloud deck had been boiled away from the local area by the energies liberated by the assault shuttle's destruction, allowing him an unobstructed view.  
  
City of Eden, Police HQ, that same time  
  
Quentin Justice began to bellow orders even as the general alarm began to wail upon sensing weapons fire and explosions.  
  
"Dispatch EMS, Fire Department and SWAT teams to Sector 21 on the double! Tell em to watch themselves, there's a Heavy HVM site on Tower 602."  
  
"Captain, Sierra Tango One and Sierra Tango Two are both going down according to ATC! Casualties are currently unknown but believed to be 100%!" Another dispatcher shouted from across the room.  
  
"Bloody hell!"  
  
"When the assault shuttle's AM stores went, there was a MT level explosion Captain. Reports are coming in from across the city of flash blinding cases and severe radiation contamination. Also, the blast front forced some local aircar traffic down. Confirmed casualties so far are five dead, with at least 23 injured." A different dispatcher said grimly from a few desks away. "Atmosphere regulation installations are removing most of the airborne radiation as we speak, but cleanup is still gonna be a pain."  
  
"Double check that all personnel going into Sector 21 have anti-rad vaccines beforehand. And make sure they're in HASMAT gear and get deconed afterward." The nanites of the anti-rad vaccines would continually purge the harmful radiation and repair the damage it caused to living tissue. The bad thing is that they had a limited endurance, meaning that they had to be replenished after a time. The SWAT teams would be adequately protected in their unpowered assault armor, as would the Firemen and women with their power assist suits, but the EMS personnel would be quite vulnerable.  
  
At least it was a small blast, and the towers weren't affected through their defenses either, thank God!, Quentin thought.  
  
"You tell SWAT that I want that bastard, if he's still alive, to be taken out with extreme prejudice!" As per His Imperial Majesties General Edict 12, Section B, all those suspected of being involved in assassination of political or military leadership of the Empire can be summarily executed. While for most cases, Quentin Justice's personal leanings were that they should at least have a fair trial, he was more than willing to exercise the full extent of the law in this particular case.  
  
City of Eden, Ulysses' Aircar, that same time  
  
It was as if someone had turned on an impossibly bright light behind them. There was a loud pop-bang combined with the sounds of tearing alloy as an intense surge kicked the back of Ulysses chair. The aircar was already starting to dive into the cloudbank when it was as if a giant fist took the small aircraft and shook it like a dog sheds water. Then the aircar was in an uncontrolled descent, punching through the vanishing cloud deck in a flat spin combined with a slight tumble. The g forces forced Ulysses' head around and down, allowing him to see past the back of his chair. He frowned for an instant, for something was wrong with the view. Then he realized that he was seeing far more out the back of the aircar than he was supposed to. Ulysses addled mind took a few seconds to register that the entire back half of the aircar was gone. The only thing that had saved his life up to this point was that he was on the right side of the internal armored divider of the small aircar. The entire aft half had been blotted out of existence.  
  
All flight controls were unresponsive, save for the small forward airflow control surfaces operating on redundant backup. But with the main wings ripped away, the small front canards proved inadequate to maneuver out of the violent death spiral the remains of the air car was locked in. Ulysses caught a fleeting glimpse of the onrushing ground before the G-forces caused the world to go black. 


	33. Chapter 30

Chapter 30 - Assassin  
  
City of Eden, Roof of Tower 602  
  
11J watched as the shattered, smoke trailing remnants of the aircar slammed down into the slightly rolling hills dotted here and there with clusters of deep blue evergreen and deciduous trees. A fountain of earth and sod was thrown up like a cresting wave, then the aircar pin wheeled back into the air in a lazy looking arc. It amazingly landed right side up, skidding along the uneven ground amidst the sound of tortured metal for another 100 feet before finally shuddering to a stop within a clump of pine tree analogs. Their desiccated needles caught softly to light, smoldering as the piping hot sections of the aircar came to rest on them. It was only thanks to his mimicking ability that he saw and heard it at all, for the ground was far, far below his vantage point. The crash site was in the lightly wooded meadowlands that wreathed Eden where the massive towers ended.  
  
Time to make sure of things, then to escape, 11J thought. He leaned forward and dove off of the roof. Tower 602's floors whipped past him as he fell headlong down its side. The operative could see startled people's faces as he fell by. They had been startled when they heard and saw the explosion, and with typical predictability, many had approached their windows to rubber neck. He extended his arms, transforming them into giant leathery wings with tufts of ebon feathers along their leading edge. Once he was fully a Grenobulin Condactal, he tucked his wings back in and plummeted earthward like an arrow shaped stone.  
  
City of Eden, Ulysses' Aircar, that same time  
  
Ulysses awoke to a pounding pain from the left side of his head. He faintly heard the popping and sizzling of electronics coming from what was left of his ruined ride. The air was a mixture of melted synthetics, acrid smoke and almost pungent pine. His vision was messed up, and not only because he was still woozy from the crash. All he could make out was blurred, indistinct shapes. The synthetic Imperial eyepiece that had replaced the scabberous growth of a Borg ocular implant was now transmitting snowy and only intermittently sending a signal to his brain. Its view, normally seamless when compared with his lone remaining biological eye, was now noticeably mechanical. Ulysses reached up to finger the wound. It seemed the entire mechanism was smashed, and as he probed further, he discovered why. A Frost Shadow Pine branch, as big around as his torso, had speared itself through the spider web of cracks in the aircars windscreen. A fraction of an inch to the right and it would have smashed his head flat as it took out his seat's headrest. As it was, the harsh branches and needles had caused a plethora of small scratches and cuts to his face as they passed, adding to the blunt force trauma the main branch had caused.  
  
Ulysses hand probed downward, meeting up with the smashed and swelling remains of his left jaw, involuntarily letting out a low groan of pain as his hands grazed the sensitive wound. He considered himself lucky though, for he couldn't feel anything above it other than a dull ache. The synthetic eyepiece's sensory co-processor must have been damaged, which explained both his poor vision and general lack of feeling. "Letinint Thismen." Ulysses distorted speech echoed off of the bulkheads. Nothing answered. "LETININT THISMEN!" He half shouted, wincing as the slight movement grated his pulped jaw together. Ulysses finally heard a soft groan reply, then nothing his ears could discern. At least his pilot was still alive, as was he. His vision clearing, if still cause for slight disorientation, Ulysses began to take stock of his situation. Feet moved, as did legs. Left arm moved. Right arm. Ulysses screamed! His vision began to tunnel as unconsciousness began to beckon again. Ulysses resisted, and gradually the gray edges around his distorted sight began to retreat.  
  
Definitely broken, he thought, his left hand gingerly probing along the top of his uniform's arm. As carefully as he could, he reached across and pulled out the first aid kit from its storage space under his control board. Extracting the adaptive splint spray, he applied it directly onto his forearm. The nano-polymer streamed out and enveloped his arm, the nanite's simple programming taking over and causing the foam like substance to wrap around his wounded appendage. Once the two sides had met on the other side, taking mere seconds, they began to harden until they couldn't be moved apart from their set position by average movement. While still painful, at least he could move around now. Unhooking the harness that had likely saved his life, Ulysses rose on unsteady legs The implant camera was responding fitfully, and without the mechanism to close his eyelid, or even an eyelid left to close for that matter, Ulysses solved the problem with an old fashioned eye patch. In addition to the wound sutures and other high tech medical tools in the pouch, there was old fashioned gauze and bandages. Ulysses took the gauze and wrapped the bundle around his head, covering his damaged eye, blocking its view. Immediately, his lone good eye became much easier to use to see.  
  
Ulysses scrambled out through the virtually nonexistent windscreen, the chill of the rapidly cooling air causing him to shiver slightly. It would be winter here in a few months, and Lilith winters were fairly intense for one used to the carefully regulated temperature of a starship. He picked his way across the tree branch and finally got his first look at young Lt. Theisman. There was a bloody gash across his forehead, just below his close cropped blond hair, and a snapped pine branch about as big around as Ulysses wrist lay in his lap. He was not conscious, and with possible neck injury Ulysses was hesitant to move him. Then he realized he had no choice. There was a steady hissing sound, and Ulysses realized what it must be. The aircar's hydrogen cell must have ruptured, and was now leaking. There were small fires all around, sizzling and popping in the tinderbox dry needles and grasses, sending growing curls of smoke into the star flecked navy sky.  
  
Ulysses good hand flashed out and quickly undid Gerald Theisman's restraints. As the Lt slumped forward, the hand caught his uniform front and pulled him outward onto the nose of the aircar. Hefting him into a fireman's carry position, Ulysses picked his way, as quickly as he could, away from the ticking time bomb that had been his transportation. His feet moved with care, yet strode as quickly as was prudent through the flickering orange flame lit twilight. He was just exiting the tree line and out into the grassy meadow region that bordered it when a large shadow fell across him and a giant kicked him in his backside and sent him cart wheeling down the shallow grade.  
  
Lilith Orbit, Assault Shuttle Marine 238 Baker, On Customs Patrol, that same time  
  
Chief Gunnery Sergeant Brian McKennon surveyed the Marines, all 103 of them, assembled in the back of the assault shuttle that had been tapped to provide customs inspection teams for this shift. Clad in combat power armor with full weapons loads, they were a fearsome sight, and one that caused McKennon's heart to warm. If there were any enemies of the Empire in the system's recent arrivals, they would get a pointed showing of just how much the Imperial Marines thought of them.  
  
They were all currently aboard an assault shuttle, currently in transit to the next titanic merchie that had been forced to Prescott's Star. Although there was nothing that could be done to safeguard the surrounding colonies that wouldn't leave Prescott's Star itself vulnerable, that very same concentration of Fleet units had made Prescott's Star the only viable harbor in the sector for merchies who served those colonies. The ones that couldn't cut directly for safer space, those who needed to make repairs or refuel, they inevitably wound up at Prescott's Star. And as such, they had to be looked over lest they be harboring Galactic Unity spies or worse.  
  
While none had yet been encountered by any of the customs patrols, that didn't mean that they couldn't, and with new ships arriving hourly, Prescott's Star's parking orbits were beginning to get a might crowded. McKennon didn't envy STC one bit, for they must be having a hell of a time ensuring the safe separation distance between merchies and the mandatory separation between merchies and Starfleet assets.  
  
"Attention, Attention!" the com speaker snapped with the shuttle pilot's voice. "We have a Fallen Angel, repeat, Fallen Angel. Orders from the Forge are to render assistance, both in air support and securing the crash site and any survivors. Get ready, we'll be over the drop site in 20 seconds."  
  
Fallen Angel was code phrase for an attack against a seignior officer, and as far as McKennon knew there was only one of those dirtsid. Oh [b]HELL![/b] Many of his fellow Marines realized the same thing in almost the same instant, and an almost feral growl coursed through them, and McKennon joined them. Nearly all of Prescott's Star's Marines approved of Ulysses handling of things, especially how he set things straight right away. This was only understandable, given that it would be the Marines who would pay the price for any screw ups by Starfleet. They saw Ulysses Vanguard as one of their own, both for his professionalism and the respect he held for all Marines under his command. And if they got a hold of the person responsible, he was going to be sorry he was ever born.  
  
--- --- ---  
  
The shuttle's aft swept airfoils gave it the appearance of a bird of prey on the hunt. The adaptive skin that made up her hull was currently in a black/gray shatter frame scheme. She had been nuzzling up to the primary docking port of a multi million ton merchie when Fallen Angel was issued. By pure chance, she was persecuting the intercept almost directly above Eden, and as such was likely to arrive on scene before even the dirtside assets. Her pilot retracted the half extended belly docking collar and went to full impulse in virtually the same motion. She ignored the squeal of protest from the merchie's captain, shifting com channels to declare her intentions to STC. At least dirtside traffic was already fleeing from the crash site as fast as they could, it would free up airspace her use. With a quick snap turn, the distant 2/3rds blue/green/white crescent of Lilith began to grow very large very fast as the Imperial assault shuttle made planet fall like a bat out of hell. The assault shuttles sensors had clearly shown the destruction of her sister planet side, and as such, this one's crew were eager for some retribution. She trailed incandescent hellfire as her conformal shields swept atmosphere aside contemptuously, bulling it out of the way as she speared near straight down through the sky.  
  
Outskirts of Eden, that same time  
  
Operative 11J's ears could pick up the still faint wail of emergency response vehicles approaching his position. Not that they would catch him, all he had to do was morph into one of the local fauna and slip back into a darkened alley or underground parking garage and change back into one of his assumed identities. His keen, bird of prey eyesight picked out movement at the crash site that was by now quite close. Two individuals, one unconscious and being carried by the other, were making for the open ground to the south of the crash site. 11J extended his taloned feet, preparing to pounce on his prey with their foot long, scythe like edges. He was within mere seconds of doing so when a wall of heat and force crashed into him, sending him into a tumble up and away from his targets. A brilliant blue fireball lit the near darkness, catching the pine tree grove on fire. The leaking hydrogen bottle aboard the aircar had finally encountered the small bushfires surrounding it, and the results were to be expected. But unlike the first explosions, 11J wasn't expecting it, and it caused him to loose sight of his target as he was thrown violently about. The sonic boom that came at near the same instant as the thunderous explosion went unnoticed.  
  
Assault Shuttle Marine 238 Baker, that same time  
  
The pilot station's sensors had zoomed in on the shattered remains of Ulysses' aircar. There were two distinct life signs, and both were strong and steady. As a MFD visual display showed, one was carrying the evidently unconscious other away from the wreck. Then another biosign, ignored at first but now becoming a concern, was falling fast and coming down virtually on top of the two survivors. Then, mere seconds before the impact, a miniature blue mushroom cloud blossomed from the aircar's location causing the IR sensor return to flare white. The explosion swept all three biosigns away from its center, throwing The Skipper and his pilot nearly 30 feet away. Both landed near each other and lay on the ground, unmoving but with steady biosigns. The pilot lifted a hand off of her throttle to push a button on her control panel. A muted whir-thunk went through the assault shuttle, more felt through her flightseat than heard, as its drop bays opened to the chill air of Lilith.  
  
--- --- ---  
  
"Go! Go! Go!" Lt. Avery's voice boomed through McKennon's comlink. Not that the Marines needed any encouragement, the first two pairs had already walked out the now open aft end of the Assault Shuttle before he had even opened his mouth with the others following as rapidly as they could. McKennon stepped out of the perfectly good assault shuttle and into Lilith's atmosphere with the groups CO, Lt. Avery, beside him. Seconds later, his suit twirled him so that he was feet down, then went into a wicked 8 G deceleration. His downward motion had slowed to virtually nothing when his feet finally met the ground. When the first one touched down, McKennon was already in motion. The grav gun held in one of his power armor's mechanical hands came up across his chest where his other mechanical hand gripped its middle. He had come down very close to his destination, as had the rest of the Marines. Both his internal sensors and the coordinates being supplied by the assault shuttle told him that The Skipper and his pilot were a few hundred meters behind him. Pirouetting till he was facing the right direction, McKennon then strode forward, leaping and activating his AG harness almost as soon as he left the ground. Following his direction, the AG harness popped him up about a foot off of the ground, then held him there as he floated towards his destination. He floated for about 20 meters before he let himself fall back down and repeated the process. The light beads that marked his fellows on his HUD were similarly closing on The Skipper, those fortunate to land nearer to the mark already taking up defensive positions while groups two medics approached closer to look the pair of Imperial officers over. 


	34. Chapter 31

Chapter 31 by CaptainChewbacca  
  
The fleet drifted in the black of space, waiting. All weapons were ready, all crews prepared. Admiral Sisko sat quietly on the flag bridge of the Saratoga, thinking. All of his life, the Empire had been powerful. It had been strong, determined, and victorious. But now, the Cardassians matched them in all three. He was about to engage an enemy fleet, and for once, victory wasn't certain, or even likely. Riker's android, Lore, had given odds of success at only 72.3%. Sisko didn't like those odds, but they would get better fast. He stood and straightened his uniform. "Fleet Status!" He barked.  
  
Kira was seated on her command throne four decks down, overseeing several displays on the arms of the seat. "All groups report optimum readiness." She spoke to the voice coming from the speaker in her chair. "We are deployed in a Zeta-screen formation, and groups Alpha, Beta, and Delta are holding steady. Admiral Aesstuusss reports that Nova wing is fueled ready to launch."  
  
"Excellent." Sisko turned to his science officer. "Anything on sensors?"  
  
The young lieutenant worked the controls. "Nothing yet si.." She trailed off. "Wait. Admiral, I am detecting in excess of seven thousand vessels transiting to normal space at seven-eight-two by four-four-one." Her voice trembled as the color drained from her face. "It's the Cardassian fleet."  
  
"Red Alert." Sisko strode back to his throne and rubbed the Bajoran box he had placed on his console. The light was so... compelling. "When they are within comm range, hail the lead ship. Designate hammer flight and trident flight subordinate to Nova wing." There was an electric silence throughout the fleet as the Cardassian fleet approached, spreading out like the hood of a cobra ready to strike. In its center, holding back, was a sight which put a knot in Sisko's stomach. "Tactical, give me a reading on their flagship."  
  
"It's a monster, Admiral. Over four kilometers by three by one and a half. It masses more than half of a Bastion-class, and its defenses are just as good."  
  
The magnified ships were now visible, and Sisko counted the captured Wraiths. The Arizona, the Behemoth, the Meteor, and other paragons of Imperial engineering. How many men had died locked in their quarters on those ships?  
  
"Admiral," the comm tech called to him "I have communications with the flagship. It is identifying itself as the Cardassia's Song."  
  
"Now batting for the London Kings..." Sisko muttered under his breath. "Onscreen." With a flicker he was face to face with a Cardassian who he would have to treat as an equal. The commander was a large male, with prominent neck folds. Standing behind him was a stern-looking Cardassian dressed in dark leathers, with a cape. He reminded Sisko of a Commissar.  
  
The seated male spoke. "This is Legate Damar of the Fourth Order of the Cardassian Union. We do hereby claim the Bajoran system and the remainder of sector 3921 in the name of the Cardassian Union. Remove your Fleet immediately and evacuate all Imperial personnel from the sector in twelve standard days."  
  
Cardassians always were bold. "Legate Damar, I am Vice-Admiral Sisko, commander of this sector. I do not intend to surrender it to you or to any other hostile force which claims it. This sector belongs to the Empire and to the Bajorans. Now, why don't YOU withdraw your fleet and go back to your Cardassian Union before I decide Bajora needs a new planet orbiting it."   
  
Damar gripped the armrests of his chair. The Cardassian homeworld had been destroyed by a Genesis torpedo, but it was a bluff. Sisko had no Genesis torpedoes, the so-called Grand Alliance had seen to that, but maybe Damar didn't know that.   
  
The standing Cardassian whispered in his ear, and Damar nodded. "Do what you must, but my men would be honored to die the same death as our homeworld. Check your sensors, Admiral. You are outnumbered and outgunned. No one need die today." A sardonic smile told Sisko that this Legate didn't believe that at all.  
  
Sisko reached for a comm panel on his right, and tapped in a set of commands. "Legate Damar, how is the security on your ships?"  
  
Damar's brow furrowed. "Second to none. What is this about?"  
  
"Well," Sisko smiled, "you seem to have multiple security breaches." He hit the execute button on his panel, and space lit up in the Cardassian fleet. "Close channel. Attack all weapons, all ships." He sat back in his chair. Batter up!  
  
--- --- ---  
  
Alarms blared on the Song. "What is going on?" Damar threw a young technician away from a flashing panel and scanned the data.  
  
"Legate! The Wraith ships!" A comm operator shouted. "Twelve of them have self-destructed. No survivors."  
  
"To darkness with diplomacy!" Garak was livid. "Punish the Terran treachery!"  
  
--- --- ---  
  
A red light on Lafayette Sisko's control board flicked to green. All forces attack. He took the controls, yanking his cobra out of its holding course and reading his orders as they came from fleet command. Admiral Aesstuusss was a brilliant tactician, and he knew his job. As Lafayette formed his wing together, the Ark Royal carriers and Aegean destroyers formed a great disk, crisscrossing space with their reinforced shield generators to protect the fighters. Lafayette and the rest of Berserker flight were to join the rest of the fighters in torpedo interception. Long shots were long, but take enough and either side could even up the odds with enough of them.   
  
"Berserker Flight, this is Berserker Lead, signal click all." Lafayette counted silently as twenty-three clicks echoed in his earpiece and were tallied up. The EW generators on each fighter began to charge up, creating a wall of false echoes for the torpedoes to get through. That was Aesstuusss' favorite tactic. All too soon, the space between the fleets began to shrink, and filled with streaks of light. A few torpedoes came his way, and his flight took care of them with efficiency. A low tone sounded in his headset.  
  
"Screen volley! Flight to position one in ten seconds!" His fighters scrambled to the safe zone, but Berserker fifteen had an engine flutter and didn't get clear of the friendly fire. Two solid walls of quantum torpedoes flashed out from the Steamrunners he had been screening. They streaked across the vanishing gap and slammed into the Cardassian fleet, blossoming into fire and eating away at ships like waves against a sand castle.   
  
A glint of metal caught Lafayette's eye, and he instinctively mashed down the trigger on his phasers. As he banked to follow, he saw phaser-fire from four of his flight mates converge with the golden energy of Hellbore Cannons from two Hydran fighters against the shields of a Galor-class cruiser. It resisted for a few seconds before it exploded.   
  
He looked around, and saw that the fighters were now surrounded by Imperial and Cardassian ships. A higher tone echoed in his headset. "Close range achieved. Engage all targets of opportunity." The Aegean destroyers picketing the Ark Royals would still reinforce the shields of Imperial ships nearby, but now Lafayette's flight was to sow destruction among the lumbering ships of the enemy fleet.  
  
"Berserker flight, form up. Time to hit a few out of the park." He grinned and glanced down at his readouts. Imperial forces were down four percent, and Cardassians down six percent. Still room for improvement.  
  
--- --- ---  
  
Legate Damar glared at the display in front of him. Those Imperial torpedoes were more powerful than anything his intelligence had reported, and had better tracking, too. He had separated his fleet into five elements, each led by twenty Superdreadnoughts, but now they were all blunted thanks to Sisko's trickery. He silently cursed the Obsidian Order, they had assured the central command that there were no computer- traps or latent programs left, but he had already lost half of the captured Wraiths.  
  
He pounded the console. "We have to break through the Imperial line! If we don't get to Bajor nothing our Fleet does is going to matter." On the display, three of his forward elements were firmly engaged with two prongs of the Imperial Fleet. The spine of Ark Royals and Aegeans down the center of their formation was providing them an anchor he couldn't dislodge, with the Aegeans protecting the carriers, who were constantly replenishing those blasted fighters. Both forces were evenly matched, but the Cardassian fleet wasn't advancing.  
  
Garak watched the display with a cold gleam in his eyes. "We seem to have encountered stronger resistance than expected, Damar." His gaze pierced into the commander's soul. "Fortunately, we have prepared for this eventuality."  
  
"Indeed we have." Damar relaxed visibly, the fog of anger clearing from his mind. "Signal the second Fleet. Begin Vole Swarm." The comm pit scrambled to carry out his orders. Behind the fleet, boiling out of subspace corridors, came five thousand ships. Mostly Rasilaks and Legates, they swarmed over and around the larger Cardassian ships like angry rodents.   
  
"Fleet is in position, Legate!"   
  
Damar clenched his fist and looked out at the Imperial ships.  
  
"Fire."  
  
--- --- ---  
  
Onboard the Enterprise, Admiral Lore was standing rigid in front of the tactical display. When he was devoting his mind to thinking, he tended to keep his body still. "Signal the Rutlidge and the Hyperion and have them bring the third arm to grid twenty-two by eight." His crew carried out his orders with efficiency. On two separate occasions, Lore had summarily executed crewman who failed to perform at his expectations.  
  
"Admiral," Commissar Troi was growing alarmed in the midst of this. She had never been in a battle of this magnitude, or one that might be lost. "Moving up the third arm will leave our rear exp-"  
  
Lore's head snapped around and he cut her off with a raised hand. "Thank you, Commissar for your thoughtful analysis. In the time I am using to tell you to be quiet, almost two-hundred ninety Imperial citizens will die in this battle. Do not make me waste their contribution." He turned back to the display. "Contact the Wrath of Hydria, and tell them to send four wings through the gap in our flank. Order assault platform groups alpha and delta to fire a stuttered quantum burst along their vector in exactly fourteen point two seconds... mark!"  
  
In space the pair of Wraiths flanked by Sovereigns brought up their arm of the second fleet group, bringing heavy fire to bear on the Cardassian line. In doing so, they left a large section of the fleet group undefended. Sure enough, a trio of Sartans, each the match for a baseline Wraith, flanked by a number of Keldon cruisers came soaring in for the kill. Suddenly a hail of glowing nova-blue torpedoes streaked out towards them, overwhelming their shields and vaporizing ablative plating. As the blasts subsided, the ships were surrounded by a swarm of Cobras, Vipers, and Hydran Trebuchets, spitting death from their Hellbore Cannons and carving flaming gashes along the superstructure of the ships. The Vipers pounded the ships with quantum torpedoes mercilessly. In another ten seconds, all eleven Cardassian ships were expanding balls of plasma.  
  
Lore didn't look back at Troi, but she knew that everyone else on the bridge was, and she could hear their thoughts; Section 31, always on the job... She never even went to fleet, who does she think she is? Her cheeks glowed in embarrassment.   
  
"Admiral, I'm detecting a second wave of Cardassian ships advancing, mostly smaller hull-sizes."  
  
"Highlight the display, and give me scans of three of the nearest ships. I want details." Lore bent to study his sensor console.  
  
A tactical officer was processing the data. "They have minimal shields, sir, and their crew count is low. I am detecting no significant antimatter onboard, so they aren't suicidal."  
  
Lore's eyebrow arched. "There seems to be a scattering field preventing detailed internal scans... attempt to penetrate it."  
  
"Admiral," Troi tried to salvage her authority, "there are currently over twenty Wraith-analogues for our fleet group to contend with. I don't think these new ships are any concern."  
  
"On the contrary, Commissar Troi," Lore looked up from his display while his hands continued working the controls, "they are extremely important. Since Cardassians are neither unintelligent or vainglorious, they do not intend to sacrifice those ships for no tactical gain. I intend to determine that tactical gain." He turned back to his readouts. "There is a high-energy surge in the forward section of each ship that is spiking into the terradyne range at an increasing frequency..." He jerked up and looked to the comm. "Lieutenant Kellan, signal the fleet! Flash warning code Alpha nine. Designate each of those ships as a priority target." He turned back to the display, "Shields emergency full to front. Link warp cores three and four to the main relays and engage power transfer." As he watched, each of the smaller ships spat a massive bolt of energy towards an Imperial ship. He was too late. The maulers began to slam into ships, shredding smaller ones and crippling those which survived. Four bolts were coming towards the Enterprise, and Lore knew the shields would not reach full power in time.   
  
"Oh... SHIT."  
  
--- --- ---  
  
"Kira, what is going on?" Sisko's voice thundered across the Flag Bridge.   
  
After a few seconds a holo of Kira appeared on the stand next to him. "Admiral, it appears that the Cardassians refit a number of smaller ships with a single mauler cannon. Our forces are currently down eighteen percent, the Cardassians are at fifteen."  
  
"Those maulers can't be firing more than once every forty seconds, destroy those ships!" Sisko flipped a switch on the comm and Kira was replaced by Aesstuusss. Without his suit, the Hydran made Sisko do a double take. "Admiral, you see what's going on?"  
  
The Hydran's eyelids blinked simultaneously, the equivalent of an affirmative nod. I DO, SIR. I AM DISPATCHING ALL FIGHTERS TO SWEEPER DUTY.  
  
"Good. The first fleet group will provide covering fire, and we'll see if we can get closer to the command ship."  
  
The Hydran waved, and the connection turned off.  
  
"Comm, get me our SWACS and have them paint all of the mauler-refits as priority targets, then flash that to the fleet. And-"  
  
"Admiral!" A lieutenant interrupted him as he hustled back to his command chair. "The Enterprise is down. Last communiqué had breaches spanning fifteen decks and two of its warp cores were ejected. It's dead in space."  
  
Sisko's eyes fell, and he clenched a fist. The banner ship of the Empire had just been holed and was drifting. "Noted. Mark its position for salvage and signal the fleet that Rutlidge now has command of the second group. Transmit all codes to Commodore Minchori." He turned back to the holographic display and watched the tiny flashes of ships exploding. The battle wasn't lost yet. Not by a long shot. 


	35. Chapter 32

Chapter 32 - Assassin  
  
Outskirts of Eden, Assault Shuttle Marine 238 Baker  
  
The anomalous biosign, the one that had been falling towards The Skipper and his pilot, had righted its explosion induced tumble. The Assault Shuttle's airspeed had by now been reduced to a virtual crawl, her altitude maintained by her AG drives. Her now unstowed, ominous looking chin turret tracked soundlessly, following the ship's weapons officer head movements as he tracked the anomalous biosign. The ATG and ATA munitions housed in her belly bays were ready to launch at a moments notice, as were her own heavy HVM racks nestled in her wing roots. Targeting computer registered the anomalous biosign as a Grenobulin Condactal, but that was virtually impossible to be the truth. Grenobulin Condactals were avian predators of the Imperial colony world Grenobule. They were both the most intelligent of Grenobule's denizens and occupied the highest rung on the planet's food chain, at least till Terrans settled the world. As such, their transport to other worlds was very strictly regulated, and as far as anyone knew, none were on Lilith at all.  
  
Then, the virtual impossibility of it being an actual Grenobulin Condactal became certain impossibility, for the biosigns shifted, replaced by those of a Vedran Titan. The beast, resembling a carnivorous version of a Terran rhinoceros that had enough natural armor to give a full powered hand phaser shot pause alighted on the ground, then began to stampede directly towards the marines clustered around Ulysses.  
  
"Valley Forge, I have contact with a Changeling infiltrator. Suspect that he was responsible for Fallen Angel. Request weapons free status and permission to engage." The pilot commed with a predatory snarl as she began to side-slip her large craft around to get a clear lane of fire.  
  
Outskirts of Eden, Galactic Unity Operative 11J, that same time  
  
This Terran was proving all too meddlesome. Once again, 11J had nothing to show for his efforts. But that was not how things would end. Not this time. Ulysses Vanguard was all too competent in his job to remain as a stumbling block to the Galactic Unity's advance. 11J would see to that, even if it meant his own death. He morphed into one of the most terrifying predators in the galaxy, let out a blood chilling bellow, then charged towards his target.  
  
Outskirts of Eden, Marines at Ulysses' Position, that same time  
  
Nearly as soon as the bellow came, every gun in the Marines trained on the now rapidly approaching monstrosity. For a split second they questioned how what their sensors were telling them could be true. Then a voice barked from their helmet speakers. "Chicks, this is Mother Hen: weapons free, repeat, weapons free. Take it out!" The Assault Shuttle's pilot said.  
  
The Marines went into action as soon as they heard the first weapons free order. Some had to take a short spy hop on the AG harnesses to gain sight of their target as it barreled through the softly undulating terrain. It was almost totally dark now, but to the Marines composite sensor arrays, it was of no consequence. Night was like day to their mechanical eyes, and they spat their sensor returns to the HUD that was painted on the Marine's helmet. Targeting pipers fell across their target as they brought their weapons up to their shoulders. The Marines opened fire as near one, sending 103 streams of hypervelocity grav gun rounds into their target.  
  
And nothing happened.  
  
The kinetic punch of the bullets did nothing to the charging Titan, seeming to pass straight through it as if it wasn't even there.  
  
Outskirts of Eden, Galactic Unity Operative 11J, that same time  
  
11J was ready for the likely response to his attack, altering his density on the fly, allowing the finger sized solid bullets to pierce him with no affect. As expected, they all had disarmed the bullets' terminal impulse boosters to limit collateral damage. They were also using only AP bullets, not the more deadly HE ones. Their hesitance to employ heavier weapons would be their downfall.  
  
Outskirts of Eden, Marines at Ulysses' Position, that same time  
  
McKennon swore under his helmet. Standard Anti-Changeling Tactics 101: Use energy weapons! Kinetic weapons would just pass right through them given their liquid natural state. In his and the others rush to fire, they forgot this cardinal rule. He commanded his suits AG harness to lift him up even as his thumb flicked the selector lever on his grav gun. Hovering in mid air, he shouted over the group com net. "Fire in the hole!"  
  
His armor's finger twitched, tugging the trigger. From his weapons under slung secondary launcher, a photon grenade spat forth at Mach 15. An unmistakable wail/scream joined the sky sundering thunder of his grenade's birth.  
  
Outskirts of Eden, Assault Shuttle Marine 238 Baker, that same time  
  
The shuttle's weapons operator silently cursed the fact that the target was to close to used really heavy weapons. Bringing up his weapons MFD, he selected the dual PPC's housed in his chin turret. His index finger slid their power setting down to minimal levels, prayed it still wouldn't hurt Ulysses and Lt. Theisman who were virtually unprotected. But there was no time for second guesses, in no time at all, the Changeling would be on top of The Skipper's prostrate form, and then he would die regardless. The weapons operator pulled the trigger on his control stick ever so briefly, and four bolts golden bolts were loosed with a banshee scream that pierced the night air.  
  
They slammed into the charging Changeling in Titan guise at virtually the same instant as the tiny AM charge of a photon grenade was freed from its prison. The PPC's, even at low power, glassed a good portion of the target area's soil. They also threw up fountains of dirt and debris, digging small, smoldering craters. But all that limited destruction was wiped away as the directed AM explosion of the photon grenade loosed itself. For a brief moment, a tiny new star was birthed, loosing an eye tearing boil of light and energy that pockmarked Lilith's surface. While the directed nature of the blast wasn't perfect, for not even Imperial micro forcefields could hope to fully contain and direct the full force of an AM explosion, they did last just long enough to focus the lions share of the blast and it's accompanying radiation into a roughly meter wide radius cone at target. The crater that this release of energy caused was quite large, and debris was thrown quite high up into Lilith's atmosphere. Shockwaves blew outward, knocking the nearer Marines over in spite of their anti-kinetic shielding. The medics had extended their own suits shields around the unconscious forms of Ulysses and his pilot, weakening their overall strength to allow the two some mediocre level of protection. It proved to be sufficient however, for the pair only received slightly increased radiation exposures through the cocooning embrace of the shields. Through both the out gust and corresponding return of air and the raining down of debris that included head sized chunks of smoldering granite.  
  
And then it was over.  
  
"Indigo," the assault shuttle's weapons operator said, turning to his left to stare at the pilot shrouded in her flight suit, "I am detecting no more anomalous readings, biological or technological. I think we got em." There was evident relief in his voice as he continued. "Also, both Admiral Vanguard and Lt. Theisman are still alive according to my screens."  
  
"Thank God for that Rocky." The assault shuttle's pilot replied from behind her concealing helmet, her own relief giving her voice a slight quaver. She forced it away as she continued. "Keep an eye out though. If the GU managed to get a changeling dirtside and a heavy HVM emplacement kept secret, lord knows what else they may have done." As she spoke, she pulled the assault shuttle's nose up and slipped into an oval circuit over the Marines below her. There was a crater, glowing faintly dull red, far to close to the Marine's position for comfort. Another piece of good news was that the blast wave from the photon grenade had largely put out the small fire that had near totally consumed the small grove of trees where the remains of Ulysses aircar had crashed.  
  
"238 Baker, this is 409 Alpha coming in from your bearing 308 mark 193." The ship to ship com system crackled. "We can provide overwatch while you descend and pick up Fallen Angel."  
  
"Acknowledged 409 Alpha. As soon as our medics give the word, well do just that."  
  
"Mother Hen, this is Chick Mike One." The seignior of the Marine's medics reported up to the assault shuttle. "We have Fallen Angel and his pilot as stabilized as we can get them. Requesting biovac ASAP."  
  
"Roger Chick Mike One. Mother Hen to all Chicks, well be landing 104 meters due south of Fallen Angel. Expedite loading, we need to get The Skipper and his pilot to medical attention."  
  
Outskirts of Eden, Marines at Ulysses' Position, that same time  
  
"Understood Mother Hen. Well be ready when you land." Lt. Avery replied. For once, he didn't notice and take exception to the flight crew's mollycoddling.  
  
By now, the SWAT Hoppers and other emergency aircars were nearly onsite. The piercing wail of the sirens created a cacophony that was all but impossible to ignore. The Hoppers, their open sides heavy with armored SWAT troops, were approaching cautiously but with all due speed. The ambulances and fire trucks were farther back but keeping themselves occupied treating the wounded citizens and putting out the small fires caused by flaming debris.  
  
The medics had already applied neck and back supports to both parties, for they had endured considerable trauma to their neck and spines and the medics first aid kits couldn't effectively treat them. The chief medic was concerned with the considerable damage done to Ulysses head. Judging from the wood splinters imbedded in the lower wound, it had been done by a tree limb. But the upper wound was the one that concerned him. It had fractured the Admiral's skull, caused when he had become a projectile after the hydrogen explosion and happened to have the bad luck to land head first on pretty much the only exposed rock around. Another crack of thunder was heard as the power armor's sensors detected the approach of another assault shuttle.  
  
The medics extracted fist sized cubic bundles from their combat webbing. Shoving their mechanical fingers into similar sized recesses along one side of the cube, it promptly sprang apart, expanding into two parallel poles with pliable thatch pattern webbing between them.  
  
"Gotta love adaptive alloy." One of the Marines quipped. The metallic alloy was very tough and durable, virtually indestructible in fact, but possessed nearly the same flexibility as cloth unless a proper current was applied to make it stiffer than steel.  
  
"Ready? One.Two.Three!" Under the medic's direction, a cluster of marines shifted the two wounded Imperials as gently as possible onto the gurneys. Then one picked up either end of the gurney, scarcely noticing the weight thanks to their exoskeletons. Whisper quiet, a black dagger against the night sky, the assault shuttle swooped low overhead to settle down on landing skids a short distance away. The Marines hustled their charges aboard, clanging quickly up the lowered rear hatch. The last one had barely cleared it when it began to close and the assault shuttle began to rise. Thanks to its internal grav plateing and dampers, it was able to climb vertically without waiting for the passengers to secure themselves. It did exactly that, screaming upward and leaving the atmosphere behind in seconds. 409 Alpha took up station on their port wingtip and matched their full power climb to orbit. Halfway to the Forge, a full three wings of fighters dropped about them. As 238 Baker slowed her advance, coming close to the Valley Forge's primary landing bay, the fighter's peeled back out of her way, but didn't stray far. It wasn't until after the bay's tractors had pulled her inside and the armor blast doors had resealed that the fighters again returned to their patrol routes.  
  
Valley Forge, Lilith Orbit  
  
The usually bustling docking bay was unnaturally quiet as the assault shuttle settled into its birth. Drifting tail first into its honeycomb like cell, with the now sealed blast doors almost directly in front of her predatory beak, anchor arms settled around her, binding her fast to the deck. The rear ramp was lowered and the Forge's medical personnel were already in place waiting with an pair of AG carts. Anna Petersmith was at their head, blue eyes worried and face pinched with concern. P'tel and Commissar Stevens were also on hand, both with masks of neutrality. P'tel because she had to maintain her emotional detachment, Stevens because she wasn't sure weather to be happy or sad that Ulysses had nearly died. True, he was a gifted commander, but that sword cut both ways, making him a potential threat to the Emperor and the Empire.  
  
As soon as the Marines had settled Ulysses gurney down on the AG cart, she slipped her medical goggles down and activated them. Having all the functions of a medical tricorder but in goggle form to allow both hands to be free and a much more user friendly display, it quickly showed her just how extensive Ulysses injuries were. Flicking between sensor return overlays, she saw every broken bone, every abused muscle, every ruptured blood vessel. It wasn't pretty.  
  
"Get the Admiral prepped for surgery immediately." She said as she and the medical staff trotted down the hall towards Sickbay Four with the two AG carts in tow. It was only a short distance down the hallway, placed there specifically to expedite the speed which wounded Marines could be patched back together. The skull fracture had caused internal hemorrhage on the brain, and the pressure was slowly building to dangerous levels. Although it should be easy to repair, it could be more complicated than it first looked.  
  
"It could be a while." She said to the Valley Forge's mistress and political watchdog. "I'll com you when he's ready to receive visitors." She then spun on her heel, ending the conversation and striding through the sickbay doors that shut behind her with a squeak/swoosh.  
  
Ulysses had just been set down on the operating table when he began to thrash. "He's having a seizure!" A nurse shouted as Anna sprinted to the table. Then Ulysses life sign readings began to plummet.  
  
"Damn it, don't you die on me Ulysses Vanguard!" Anna cursed. "Neural and cardiovascular stimulators, NOW!" Sickbay burst into a flurry of motion as her medical staff raced against time to save Ulysses life. 


	36. Chapter 33

Chapter 33- Into the Valley of Death (By Captain Chewbacca)  
  
***  
  
"Order attack wings two and three to move forward. Gul Marin is to take the invasion force to the Bajoran defense perimeter and to begin the assault on Terrok Nor. Make sure the troopships are well-defended." Damar watched as almost a fifth of his fleet broke away and began to fly towards the Imperial fleet like a barbed arrow. Garak watched with silent glee as the ships proceeded. If he had been successful in drawing off enough of the Imperial ships, even if the main assault failed, Sisko would return to find Bajor in flames, crawling with three hundred thousand armed and trained Cardassian troops.  
  
Damar glanced at his readouts. "The Vole Swarm has done its work, but it is down to twenty-three percent strength. Order Vole ships to fire one last volley along the invasion fleet's vector, then bring them back to primary positions. If we have to retreat, we're going to need a rearguard."  
  
"If I may, Legate." Garak pressed a sequence of buttons and a number of Imperial ships began to flash on the display. "These ships are salvageable, if we act quickly. The Vole swarm has rendered many ships open to boarding. I recommend we rescind our reserve ground forces and put them on ship assault. The Cardassian people need every ship they can get."  
  
Boarding actions against the Imperium were often suicide, but Garak was right. "Agreed. Dispatch reserves for boarding. If capture of the vessel is unlikely, they are under orders to sabotage any critical systems available in order to destroy the ship." Damar thought back to a history lesson from his school as a child. Terran military history was a subject he enjoyed, they were such a violent people. During one of the bloodier civil wars, one of the Terran factions had been forced to retreat back through his home region. Along the way, their General Sherman had destroyed everything useful to the enemy, from crops and farms to basic amenities. Leave the enemy no advantage. He would leave the Terrans no advantage, not after their atrocities.  
  
***  
  
Berserker flight was down to half-strength. Lafayette Sisko continued to destroy ship after ship with his flight mates at his wing, but there were always more. They looped around the superstructure of a Wraith, and then drew a line of fire across an exposed section of a Cardassian Sovereign. As they wheeled away, Berserker Nine came over the comm "Lead, looks like the Cardies are trying for a breakthrough!"  
  
"I" A number of Hydran fighters, including Harkiag Leader had joined Lafayette's flight. "I HAVE ORDERS FROM THE ADMIRAL TO INTERCEPT THE CONVOY. ONLY LIMITED CAPITAL ASSETS CAN INTERCEPT."  
  
Lafayette grinned. Fleet does the flying, fighters do the dying. "Well let's ride, ladies and gentlemen... and others." He added, eliciting a laugh from a few of his pilots. In combat, forced humor was a useful calming agent. The fighters streaked towards the convoy, joined by dozens of fighters and a wing of assault shuttles. The convoy was immense, almost two hundred larger ships and a thousand transports. The fighters evaded the sporadic fire as they dived towards the convoy. "Launch Phalanx salvo!" Lafayette mashed the control panel and watched as over a hundred phalanx quantums reached out. "Prepare for active-" And space around Lafayette exploded in silver light.  
  
Maulers, everywhere, over a thousand blasts screening the convoy, and overwhelming the fighters and few capital ships. Over his comm, Lafayette heard screams get cut off one by one. A mauler flashed by less than three meters from his shields, the energy corona frying them. Silver hued blue lightning crawled up the fuselage of his fighter, shutting down his engines and weapon systems.  
  
His control panel winked out and Lafayette was drifting at one-quarter impulse towards the Cardassian convoy. He tried a manual restart, but nothing happened. On his headset he couldn't hear any of his flight mates. He was alone.  
  
Well, nothing to do now but die for a reason. Lafayette opened the panel for emergency thrusters. He couldn't stop himself, but he could steer. And without a power signature, he was significantly harder to hit. Looking at the convoy for a few seconds, he spotted his target. "Hellooooo reason." A troopship, lumbering and slow, heading for Bajor. His mother, his four brothers, and his sister were on the planet and they weren't going to be killed by any Cardassians. He checked his torpedoes. Five left. Enough to save some lives. Lafayette armed the warheads as he nudged his ship into an impact trajectory. Phasers sliced through space near him, but none hit. He ignored them, worrying wouldn't help at this point. When the ship filled half his canopy, he pulled his ejector bar.  
  
Explosive bolts thundered around him as his seat flew clear of the ship. "Emergency! Emergency! Berserker Lead is EVA. Requesting pickup." He set his beacon to rebroadcast the message every thirty seconds. He looked down and saw his fighter plow into the side of the transport. It was completely enveloped in the ship before it exploded. That'll do it. Lafayette nodded and smiled behind his enviro-suit to himself as he spun around to see how the battle was progressing. He turned just in time to see a large chunk of hull-plating spinning towards him. I did it, Dad.  
  
***  
  
Smoke wafted across the flag bridge of the Enterprise. A thud and a clank heralded Admiral Lore tossing pieces of deck plating away from the command console. "Status! All systems report!"  
  
A bloodied lieutenant pulled a body off of the tactical console and checked the readouts. "Sir, the Enterprise has sustained heavy damage. We have hull breaches on decks nineteen through forty-two, and bulkheads aren't responding on decks twenty and thirty-seven. Power is down to fifty-eight percent, and warp cores three and four have been ejected. Main computer, weapons, and communication are down."  
  
"Any word from the command bridge?" Lore's fingers were flying over controls faster than any crewman could see as he attempted to initialize systems.  
  
"Sir, the command bridge is in the depressurized section of deck thirty. Readings show no survivors." The young girl looked like she was about to cry. Several other crewmen were staggering to their feet.  
  
"All of you, listen!" Lore tried to sound compassionate and  
  
authoritative at the same time. These humans were in a very fragile state right now, and he didn't want to break their psyches. "I want damage control teams to restart systems in the following order: Main power, shields, weapons, computer, engines, communication. Impress every crewman needed regardless of rank." He looked around at their stunned faces. "NOW." They sprang into action.  
  
Commissar Troi staggered to her feet, blisters dotting her face and right arm where sparks had burned through. "What is the status of the battle?"  
  
Lore pointed to a sensor display. "Feel free to investigate for yourself, but until I can proactively participate in the battle, I see no need to observe it." He continued to move debris from damaged systems and repair them.  
  
Troi frowned at his back, and went to the panel. "There seems to be a large element penetrating the lines heading for Bajor."  
  
"That is likely their invasion force. They intend to get entrenched regardless of the outcome of this battle, to put the Imperium on the defensive."  
  
"How do you know that?" Troi sounded suspicious.  
  
Lore shrugged as he hefted a four-hundred kilo beam. "Its what I would do." For the next few minutes there was quiet as the crew attempted to reactivate the ship's systems. Suddenly all the display consoles on the bridge flickered on.  
  
"We have power, sir!" The young lieutenant was almost smiling. It was likely her first military engagement. "Sensors online..." She frowned. "I'm detecting a transpor-" a low whine filled the bridge, followed by a boom and hiss.  
  
"Nerve agent!" Lore ran for the canister, looking to seal it, but there were too many aerosol jets for him to block. "Lock down environmental systems!" He ran across the bridge at blinding speed as crewmen began to drop.  
  
"Can't lock..." A blue-uniformed commander gasped in his seat. "power activated diagnostic cycle." He looked at Lore, and then his head dropped.  
  
Lore grabbed his neck. Still breathing, they want prisoners. He checked internal sensors, and found that three-hundred canisters had been beamed throughout the ship. And only main power had been restored. Without the computer, he couldn't call for help, couldn't-  
  
A second whine began on the bridge, this time towering forms in metal began to materialize. "Computer, activate emergency tactical holograms." Lore whispered as he knelt down.  
  
"BEEE-uuuurrrrrt Unable to comply. Main computer is offline." The precise voice irritated Lore. He counted twenty-two boarders on the bridge, all in armor and with disruptor rifles. They weren't expecting a fight. Lore smiled. He looked over to his right, and saw that one of the security guards had been carrying a vibro-axe with him when the maulers hit. He inched his way over to it as he listened to the Cardassians. They were looking for the Captain, and weren't happy about not finding one.  
  
He gripped the axe in both hands, twisting the handle to activate the power- pack. He closed his eyes, and unlocked memory blocks long dormant. After all, he had been designed as a prototype assassin android. This was second nature to him.  
  
Lore's mind sped up to maximum processing, operating on friend-or-foe only. No higher functions. He stood and twirled the axe, and leapt. His powerful legs sent him almost eight meters across the bridge, towards the closest Cardassian. A shout from one of his comrades made him turn, but Lore's axe split his rifle before it was even readied. Blood and sparks flew as he bisected the man's torso.  
  
Rolling and leaping, Lore spun the axe and swung again and again. The boarders tried to shoot him, but Lore dodged the disruptors with unnatural leaps and dodges. Fourteen had fallen dead before they shot his axe. For two point four seconds Lore calculated his alternatives, before his programming had an answer.  
  
He rolled across the floor and stood with a pair of disruptors. He fired as he ran, cutting down more Cardassians as their fire traced behind him. One of them lobbed a pair of grenades at Lore. His enhanced aim tracked them, but one slipped by and detonated behind him. The concussion blast lifted him off his feet and threw him towards the two remaining Cardassians. He tumbled like a rag doll and landed in a limp pile of appendages.  
  
The two armored figures walked towards him, weapons leveled. One prodded him with the barrel of his gun, rolling him onto his back. Two of his head panels were open, and they could see flashing lights. "I think the pale bastard is dead." The leader said and looked at his partner.  
  
"The pale bastard is not." Lore's eyes snapped open and he rolled up onto one arm. His legs swung out and connected solidly with the knee joints of the leaders, overpowering the mechanical servos with a crunch of metal and bone. He swatted the other Cardassian's gun across the room and flipped backwards onto his feet. The Cardassian bellowed and swung a massive armored fist at Lore.  
  
It stopped, four centimeters from Lore's face. The android's muscles strained against the machinery, but his strength was greater than even an enhanced humanoid. Lore let his mind return to normal speed as he stared into the faceplate of the Cardassian. He could hear the man's pulse thundering and his breath straining. Lore shook his head. He grabbed an armored elbow and bodily flipped him over his head, onto his stomach. He planted his left foot on the Cardassian's back as he tried to stand. A sharp kick in the head ended his struggling.  
  
Lore turned back to the Cardassian he had crippled. He walked up to him and knelt down, taking off his helmet. The man was in pain, and looked in horror at Lore "Who... what are you?"  
  
The android cocked his head, as if he was being asked for the first time. "I am Admiral Lore of the Terran Imperium. Who are you?"  
  
His voice trembled. "I am Palim Oset, of the fifth batallion."  
  
"Well, Palim Oset of the fifth battalion." A gleeful light gleamed in Lore's eyes. "Would you like to know a secret?" Palim nodded, frightened. Lore leaned down and whispered in his ear. "I am death." His hand flashed down and grabbed the Cardassian's throat. "Now die, Palim Oset." He squeezed, and the blood came bubbling from his mouth.  
  
Lore held on for a few more seconds, until his programming comprehended there was no longer a threat. He relaxed, and looked around. His crew was unconscious. He grabbed a tricorder and examined the nearest crewman. Anesthisine gas. Easily remedied. "Computer. Mix with air composition tricillium in a concentration of eighty parts per million."  
  
A less than satisfactory answer came. "BEEE-urrrt. Unable to comply. Atmospheric controls are down due to loss of main computer."  
  
The Enterprise's computer was down, and unless Lore could bring it up soon, his crew would start to die from overexposure. Unfortunately, the main computer core was eighteen levels and two kilometers of corridor away, in a section of the vessel currently blocked by heavily reinforced bulkheads. Lore turned to look around, a human gesture of frustration. As he did, a metal beam caught at his secondary cranial access plate, tearing it off completely.  
  
He put a hand to his head, and then stopped. There was another computer right here capable of controlling all of the Enterprise's primary functions. Lore went to a nearby terminal and tore it from the deck, exposing the main data line connected to it. He smiled. "If you want something done right..."  
  
***  
  
An exploding panel showered the main bridge of the Saratoga with sparks. Kira leapt up and grabbed a fire extinguisher from under her throne, smothering the fire in extinguishing foam. "Return Fire, all weapons!" She watched through her viewscreen as a quartet of wraiths and their accompanying vessels blossomed into fire.  
  
"Captain!" Her sensors officer, a Bajoran, looked panicked. "The Cardassian advance has broken through the lines! I count over a hundred tactical ships, minesweepers, and troop ships."  
  
Hell. Kira threw the fire extinguisher across the bridge, causing two crewmen to duck. "What do we have to stop them with?"  
  
Her officer checked the scanners. "The convoy was under heavy fighter assault, but they managed to clear them. Only the remnants of the second wing are standing in their way, and that's not for long."  
  
Its up to us, then. Kira hit her comm, activating the holo-communicator. Sisko's holographic form sat in midair next to her. "Admiral, the Cardassians have broken through the line. I would respectfully request that we withdraw to the defense perimeter."  
  
"Hold your position, Captain. We need every ship we've got here. "Even at one-fifth size, Kira could see the grim look on Sisko's face.  
  
"And why the hell is that, Sir?" Very few people could talk to Vice Admiral Benjamin Sisko like that without fear of execution.  
  
"Because, Kira, we've got bigger problems." Sisko deactivated the link.  
  
On the main display, Kira saw over ten thousand new ship signatures appear from the subspace corridor. It was a huge fleet, outnumbering both Imperial and Cardassian fleets combined. "This is Fleet Commander Ardiion of the Galactic Unity. We are here to bring you peace and happiness...  
  
***  
  
Admiral Thomas Riker leaned back on his command throne and smiled. Seated in a warm, dark bridge, he was the new master of the Centurion; a new wraith-class upgraded battleship, right down to the cloned leather seat. He looked at the status reports his aide gave him and frowned. The battle wasn't going well in the Denorios belt. An item on the list caught his eye. "Dammit. Dammit to hell." The Enterprise was down, and had taken boarders. Lore had been a good captain.  
  
"Something wrong, Admiral?" Commissar Bashir was seated next to him. Sisko had ostensibly left Bashir behind as a watchdog. Why couldn't the Saratoga have been damaged, get Sisko out of his hair.  
  
"No, nothing wrong." Riker tossed the datapad on the floor. "Just wondering why the good ones always die first."  
  
"I wouldn't worry about that." Julian leaned back in his seat. "The bad ones catch up on their own."  
  
Riker was about to say something when a priority message came through to his station. He read it and frowned. "A Cardassian force has broken through the line and is on its way here. Apparently the appearance of a Unity fleet in the Denorios belt has pinned down all reinforcements, so we're on our own." He looked a little bit worried.  
  
"Cheer up, Admiral!" Julian smiled. "We're defending a tiny outpost of the Empire against a superior force, and there's no retreat. If we win, we're heroes, and if we loose in six hundred years they'll still be saying 'Remember Bajor!'" He could barely hold in his laughter.  
  
Unfortunately, Riker didn't share the joke. "Red alert." Sirens blared and red lights flashed. "Activate all weapons platforms, scan all regions for subspace signatures, and ready the fleet." He tapped a comm switch. "Chief O'Brien, is the Vengeance ready for deployment?"  
  
"Aye sir. Remote operation codes are being sent to you now." O'Brien's gruff voice sounded tired. He and his crews were working nonstop on the defenses, and now they would have to scramble to make repairs during battle.  
  
"All systems report ready, Admiral." A commander who's name escaped Riker was manning the fleet comm. "The Cardassians have reached the minefield."  
  
Out in space, at the threshold of Riker's vision, small white flares began to flash. The cloaked field of subspace mines was no doubt ravaging the Cardassian fleet. "Get me live feed from one of our sensor drones, I want to see them." A flicker on the screen and then the Cardassian fleet was in full view. Riker jumped up. "Dammit to HELL!"  
  
On the screen he could see the fleet, plain as day. It was in four wedge segments, each built around the troop ships and each segment led by twelve Galor-class cruisers. The cruisers were saturating space around their elements with tetrion beams, which lit up the mines like glowing jewels for a second before being destroyed. The fleet was already two-thirds of the way through the minefield, and had taken no casualties serious.  
  
Julian laughed out loud, causing Riker to turn and glare at him. "You think this is funny?" The commissar tried to contain himself with mock serious. "No Sir, Admiral Lennigan. Its not funny at all." He glanced at the advancing fleet. "I suppose someone should send Fleet Engineering a report about those minesweepers. Rather more efficient than ours, don't you think?"  
  
Just as Riker was about to let the pompous young man taste his fist, the comm officer waved. "Sir, hail from the Cardassian force. They say the Imperial fleet will not survive and we are to surrender Bajor to them. All officers below the rank of Captain will be free to return to the surface of Bajor after being disarmed. All senior officers will be held as war criminals." He looked at the Admiral, appearing for all the world as the mouse who had been asked to bell the cat.  
  
"Send no response." Riker sat down on his throne. "Activate defense platforms, and signal the fleet to move to echo point."  
  
Out in space, the Cardassian fleet and cleared the minefield and was now under fire from the automated defense platforms. Each ADP was able to fire one of the new upgraded torpedoes every eight seconds, and thanks to their extended range over sixty-five batteries were able to fire on the fleet. Fireballs erupted in space on and around the Cardassian ships. One by one, the ADP's were targeted and fired upon, slowly reducing their number.  
  
"All ships, attack pattern Kirk Theta." Riker tented his fingers and watched the enemy ships grow on the screen. It was enormous, outnumbering his fleet three to one, but he had Bajor's defenses. The two fleets met, and began delivering massive broadsides against each other. From the planet's surface swarmed almost two thousand Laraks, Bajoran-made variants of the Imperial Cobra, with a double-bank of photon torpedo launchers and a pair of MK VII phasers for armaments.  
  
Though the Imperials fought bravely and the defenses hammered away at the Cardassians, they just couldn't stop them. When the fleet was down almost eight percent, Riker tapped on his controls. The Vengeance soared into the fleet formation, with its functioning weapons firing. "Signal Imperial assets to fall back, and have the Bajoran defense ships screen the Vengeance until we're clear."  
  
The Imperial wraiths and sovereigns slid back, still firing, while the Vengeance charged like an angry bull into the Cardassian formation. Riker smiled and opened a panel in his armrest with a set of switches. "Admiral!" Julian grabbed his hand. "Aren't you going to withdraw the Bajoran ships before proceding?"  
  
A genuinely puzzled frown crossed Riker's face for a moment. "Why?" He flipped a trio of switches and a miniature nova filled the viewscreen with white light as 90,000 tons of antimatter and antimatter waste was detonated onboard the Vengeance. Her holographic crew had done its job, bringing it to the center of the formation where it could hit the most troop transports.  
  
He looked at Julian. "We would have lost our element of surprise." Riker closed the panel and stood up. On the viewscreen less than a fourth of the Cardassian ships were remaining, and those were now retreating back towards the main Cardassian force. "I'll be in my ready room. I want a damage report and final crew performance numbers for review."  
  
In the ready room, Riker sat down on a plush couch and poured himself a glass of whiskey. Long live the Empire, he toasted himself. He might even get a commendation for today. A chime at the door brought him out of his own self-congratulation. "Enter."  
  
Inside stepped Julian Bashir, with a datapad in his hand and a smile on his face. He sat down in a chair across from him and handed him the pad. "What's this? Performance numbers?"  
  
"No Admiral, its your sentence." Julian pulled a phaser from his hip and shot Riker in the stomach. A low-powered bolt, it caused all of Riker's nerves to fire, sending the glass flying and him tumbling to the floor, twitching, but awake.  
  
Julian stood over his twitching body. "Admiral Riker, for the willful destruction of the ISS Vengeance and the Bajoran defense fleet including thirty-seven thousand nine hundred eighty-five Imperial citizens, Section 31 finds you guilty of Treason against the empire and of committing Attempted Genocide against the populace of Bajor. The penalty for these crimes is immediate death, and no appeal is to be given." He thumbed the power settings to maximum. "Do you understand the charges against you?"  
  
Riker struggled to move. "Sisko..." He gurgled.  
  
"Admiral Sisko has no say in this matter, but after your blatant disregard for the lives of I have no doubt he agrees with me." Julian smiled. "Since you clearly understand the charges..." He fired at Riker's chest, turning the man into vapor instantly. He holstered his weapon and sat at the desk, bringing up the post-battle reports from the various captains. Long live the Empire  
  
***  
  
The battlefield was now total chaos with the arrival of the Unity fleet. In the last five minutes Sisko had lost an additional four percent of his fleet. "Regroup! Signal all ships to fall back around the first fleet group in a Legionary formation. That Unity fleet is cutting us to pieces!"  
  
Out the viewscreen Sisko could see the fleet of the Galactic Unity, wave after wave of massive ships all ringing a command ship which could destroy a Bastion without too much trouble. The Cardassians were having a worse time of it, though. The Unity fleet had come in behind them, out of the subspace corridors, and had caught them with their pants down. Now Damar was fighting on two fronts.  
  
Sisko started to call for his comm officer, then halted, in deep thought while his fleet drew around him. He seemed to make up his mind and stood and strode toward the viewscreen. "Get me Damar, now! Emergency priority, I don't care." Within seconds, Legate Damar was in front of him. The bridge of his ship was now smoke-filled, and the transmission had lines of static.  
  
"If you want me to surrender, Admiral, I'm afraid you'll have to wait your turn." Damar was dispatching orders from his console while Cardassians behind him ran to and fro.  
  
"Nothing like that, Legate." Sisko smiled. "I'm offering a cease-fire." The flag bridge of the Saratoga was now completely silent. No Imperial officer had made such an agreement since the days of the Hydran incursion.  
  
"You what?" There was distrust in Damar's voice.  
  
"I am offering a cease fire. Neither of us wants to fall to the Unity, and we're not going to defeat each other here." Sisko bent and checked the display of a nearby crewman. "Together we have a fleet almost eighty percent of the Unity's." Damar still stared in silence. Sisko let out an angry sigh of disgust. "Come on, man! Your invasion force has been routed before it even got CLOSE to Bajor. You're not going to win, why not go home alive?"  
  
The Cardassian in black leaned over and whispered to Damar, who nodded. "Granted, but what assurances do I have that if we drive off the Unity fleet you won't wipe us out?"  
  
Sisko clenched his fists. "Do you have children, Legate?"  
  
"Yes, I have seven."  
  
"Well I have five." Sisko stepped closer to the screen. "And right now my second-oldest son is drifting somewhere in the middle of all of this, and I want to find him. You will not be harmed, not until my son is safe."  
  
For what seemed like an eternity the bridge crews of both ships held their breaths. "Agreed." Damar nodded. "We are sending you our telemetry to recognize our ships and friends, and we are awaiting your codes." On the display a large swath of red dots suddenly glowed green and golden. "Now then, Admiral, I have more important things to do. My ops officers will handle the rest." And the channel flicked off.  
  
"You heard the man!" Sisko strode back to his throne and sat down. "We have some important things to do. The Terran Imperial Fleet, led by the ISS Saratoga, moved to support the Cardassian positions and pour heavy fire into the Unity lines. 


	37. Chapter 34

Chapter 34 - Eye of the Storm  
  
Valley Forge, Sickbay Four  
  
The young girl in the white fur, the same one that had warned him and haunted his dreams, smiled up at him then began to fade out. All to soon, she was totally gone, leaving Ulysses alone in the darkness. But even the darkness began to fade, growing brighter and brighter.  
  
Ulysses biological eye fluttered open as consciousness forced it's way through the thick shroud of darkness.  
  
"Welcome back into the land of the living Uly." A soft voice said from beside him. It took him a moment to focus on its source, his eye blinking a few times to help clear its vision.  
  
"Anna?" His voice cracked, as if starting afresh from long disuse.  
  
"Yes Uly, it's me." There was relief in her voice. "How do you feel?"  
  
"Not that bad actually. I assume that I have you're expertise to thank for that?" His voice became closer to normal the more he used it. Ulysses tried to sit up, but moved to fast. The room swam and his arms went rubbery. He allowed himself to fall back down to the padded biobed with a small groan. The room continued to wobble and he felt like he was in a tumble, but it gradually subsided.  
  
"Slowly, Uly, slowly." Anna said, placing a restraining hand lightly on his chest. "You took a nasty couple of bumps on the head and have been out for close to three days now."  
  
"Three. DAYS?!?" Ulysses said in a forceful whisper, startled that he had been out of it for so long.  
  
"Yes. It was touch and go there for a while, but you're a fighter, just like you've always been. I wasn't able to save your cybernetic eyepiece, it was too damaged. The major trauma was from a boulder you fell on after the hydrogen explosion threw you for a loop. There were times where I thought you stayed with us just because you were too stubborn to let go."  
  
"Or you were too stubborn to let me give up. Thank you, Anna. For. for everything. For patching me back together. For being my friend when I needed you to be. Just. everything."  
  
In the muted lighting of the Sickbay, Ulysses swore that Anna's fair skin turned a few shades darker. Then she spoke with a strange tone in her voice. "And thank you Uly, for staying with us." Then she leaned down and kissed him lightly on the lips. Contact was broken near instantly, but the passion of it left Ulysses head swimming. Now it was his turn to blush, eyes showing surprise. But Anna was already walking across the Sickbay. "There are some others that are eager to see you up and about again, and I think I've kept them waiting about long enough." She said over her shoulder.  
  
Ulysses slowly managed to rise to a sitting position and swing his legs around to let them dangle off the side of the biobed. Surely she didn't feel THAT way about him?! This was something that was going to require more thought and searching of his own feelings on the matter. He wasn't certain that he was ready to take things to the next level if that was where she was leading. But that would have to wait. The Sickbay doors swooshed open, admitting P'tel and Clay Heidberg.  
  
"Skipper!" Clay said. "Good to see you up and about again. You really had us worried there for a while." There was a look of mild concern and anger on his face as he took in the mess of Ulysses left eye socket. The ruined ocular implant couldn't be replaced with local resources. It would require a trip to the core worlds where a specialist could stick on a new customized eyepiece.  
  
"Admiral." P'tel said from behind her customary Vulcan mask of non-emotion, but Ulysses swore he saw something much akin to joy flash in her eyes.  
  
"Good to see you all again to, all three of you." Ulysses said pausing a beat with a smile before continuing. "Can someone tell me what happened? The last thing I remember was flying through the air."  
  
P'tel proceeded to tell him what the Marines had done to save him.  
  
"Make sure they all get my recommendation for a medal. Especially that Assault Shuttle's pilot and crew. It was their quick action that got them there soon enough." Ulysses said. "So what else has happened in my absence?"  
  
"Only one major incident Admiral." P'tel said. "We received a distress call from an Imperial vessel that was abruptly cut off midstream. Sir, the vessel was the Anubis."  
  
"Damn." Ulysses cursed softly. The ISS Anubis was the transport that was bringing replacement Flag officers to Prescott's Star. If it was lost, Ulysses was on his own for the foreseeable future. How the Anubis was taken out was up for debate, for it shouldn't have happened given its phase cloaking device.  
  
"We have also received word that Bajor Sector has come under attack by not only the expected Cardassian forces, but by a major Galactic Unity Fleet as well. Shortly after the message was sent, all communications from Bajor Sector were cut off."  
  
Ulysses blanched slightly. "I sure hope that this doesn't mean that the GA and GU are starting to act in concert with each other, I don't need to tell you how difficult a position that would put the Empire in." Ulysses gave a silent prayer for the tens of thousands of Imperial personnel and innocent civilians on Bajor that were under assault by two foes.  
  
"Agreed Admiral, but until contact is reestablished, we will not be certain weather they are in collusion or not. It would be illogical to form any conclusions on such fragmentary data." Ulysses nodded his agreement. He sincerely hoped that all of the Empire's enemies weren't operating together. Such an outcome would be even worse than letting the monsters in Section and Starfleet have free reign.  
  
"In the system itself," P'tel continued, "there have been a few probes by GU forces but nothing significant. However, the probes have been increasing in both frequency and size. It is my belief that the GU will attack soon. The fact that the final outer colony in the sector has fallen to the GU further supports that they will attack us again soon."  
  
"Agreed. If they've finished with the outer systems, we're the only ones left. How's the Fleet elements shaking down to the new tactics I initiated before my. accident."  
  
"Quite well sir. Needless to say, they were slightly irritated at being sequestered to ensure that word doesn't get out, but they have been practicing your new tactics and are now thoroughly capable of executing them."  
  
"Good."  
  
"One minor thing I think you should get a heads up about Skipper," Clay said, "The Commissar wasn't too pleased when she figured out the cost to loss ratio of those new energy buoys you got her to agree to just before you went down to Lilith."  
  
Anna snorted. "That's the biggest understatement of the year. If you'd been conscious at the time, she might have tried to throttle you. She was really steamed that you were able to pull one over on her like that."  
  
"I don't think you'll be able to pull a fast one on her like that again Sir." Clay nodded as he continued. "She's to smart for it and she'll be on the lookout for it in the future."  
  
"She didn't stop production on them did she?" Ulysses asked. If she did that, things could prove more difficult when the GU Fleet again came calling on Prescott's Star.  
  
"No sir, I don't think she could without a considerable loss of face. It would show to all who cared to look that she had signed off on something without knowing everything about it."  
  
"Good. The cost to loss ratios were in the brief I gave her, it isn't my fault she didn't read them thoroughly." Of course, in his pitch to get her support, he conveniently ignored the cost to loss ratio and sold her on the high points of the new energy buoy design. Just like any salesman would do when trying to sell something.  
  
"That is why Commissar Stevens isn't here now Admiral, she is currently out at Nightingale Shipyards looking over what you conned her into authorizing. At least their simplistic design means they're a quick assembly. We should have adequate numbers for when the GU come calling again. Same goes for the new torpedoes Section was kind enough to give us."  
  
"Very good. They just might give us an edge if the enemy behaves as I think they will. As far as they know, they have all the advantages. Hence, it's my belief that they will come in with the subtlety of a bull in a china shop. It's what I would do in their place, with their advantages. But given our new assets, it will bleed them white before they even gain range." Fire flared in Ulysses eye momentarily.  
  
"But until then, I want to continue to have the fleet train hard. They might grumble, but the extra training will make the coming battle easier. Have our GU guests said anything of use?" Ulysses asked. Quite a few GU personnel had been picked up by the SAR crews and were currently dirtside on one of Lilith's more isolated islands. Ulysses had left strict orders that they were to be fairly treated.  
  
"Nothing other than surprise Admiral. It seems that they were under the impression that we were raving animals who would eat them at the first possible opportunity." Anna said. "While they've been tight lipped to our interviewers on matters of technology and protocol, they have been quite forward in their observations of us. Many seemed quite shocked that their accepted worldview was so thoroughly wrong."  
  
"On the tech side of things Skipper, I think we may have hit the jackpot." Clay's eyes gleamed. "Per your orders, I've had all spare Engineers combing through the debris and shattered ships the GU left behind. And I think that we've unearthed one of their internal dampers."  
  
"You're serious?!" Ulysses said, his lone eye widening.  
  
"It's still preliminary, but I believe so yes. It might prove a false alarm yet, but so far it looks like the real deal."  
  
"Hmm. Keep me apprised please. If we can neutralize their STL speed advantage, it'll be a major boost to our combat effectiveness. Slipstream works to gain the range, but not all ships have undergone the refit and with the hot war with the GU and they stalled one with the GA, I doubt that very many will be able to receive the extensive replacement anytime soon. But if all we have to do is replace our damper system to level the playing field, it can be done in field with little effort. Well done, and give my personal thanks to whomever was responsible for unearthing this little treasure."  
  
"Aye sir." Clay said with a smile.  
  
"Now if you'll excuse me," he said, standing up from his seat on the biobed's edge, "I need to put on a uniform."  
  
"Of course Sir." Anna shepherded the two officers outside while Ulysses picked a new uniform that she had conveniently laid out on the next bed for him. Walking slowly and deliberately towards the adjacent bathroom, Ulysses gradually felt his unbalance subside. One look in the mirror showed him how badly his mangled face looked. Anna had been forced to seal over the now dead cybernetic implant with false skin. His face was nearly featureless on his left side thanks to his lack of definable eye socket, eye and eyebrow. After slipping into the bodysuit of his uniform and clasping his command cloak around him, Ulysses surveyed himself in the mirror. His face looked out of place, with only one eye staring back at him. Then he got an idea.  
  
--- --- ---  
  
Ulysses walked out of Sickbay with a jaunty smile on his face and a black eye patch over where his left eye should be. P'tel merely raised an eyebrow while Clay and Anna raised two. Anna was the first to speak.  
  
"On you, the look works for some strange reason. Just don't replicate a stuffed parrot and stick it on your shoulder. That might be taking the motif a bit too far." A smile creased her face, and it was the most beautiful thing Ulysses had ever seen.  
  
ISCV Purity of Heart, 1294th Superdreadnought Battlegroup, 901st Fleet, Galactic Unity Peaceforces  
  
"No, NO, [b]NO[/b]!" The remnants of 901st Fleet and its assigned reinforcements were working up far better than could possibly be hoped for, but it still wasn't good enough to mollify Fleet Marshal Teresa Chora. "You call that a tight formation?" she said, gesturing to the recent fleet exercise in the holotank behind her as her irritated voice and face went out to the command and flag decks of each ship in her Fleet. "Look at how loose your squadron level manuvers are. When a snap maneuver is ordered, I expect it to be carried out smoothly, not with half of you beginning your turn when the other half are nearly done. We are going to stay here and do this till you get it right. I don't care if it takes all night. When we engage the enemy, I intend to have this Fleet tempered into an razor sharp blade, not one better fitting a cudgel in name. We are members of the GU Peaceforces, not a bunch of Terran rabble, start acting like it!" She snarled. "Again!"  
  
--- --- ---  
  
It had only taken another four hours of fleet wide exercises for Teresa to be satisfied, her lips curving upward slightly in a faint smile. That same satisfaction had corresponded with an upwelling of pride throughout the fleet upon successful execution of her orders. She had kept her telepathic barriers down, allowing everyone in the fleet who had the ability to sample her thoughts and feelings. They knew that she was honest when she said she was proud of them, and as such, they began to take pride in their own success. The following day, they responded just as crisply, with the confidence that they had thought lost after the disaster in Prescott's Star.  
  
"Taskforce 90153 has reported back Ma'am." A Q'Nabbian Lieutenant said through his environmental suit's external speaker. "The Imperial colony world of Williamsburg has fallen, population of two million. Peaceforces report light resistance dirtside. It would appear from preliminary reports that orders have been given for the civilians to be as peaceful as possible. Many of those with less extensive mental shields leaked that they feel that they will not be long under our control. They are under the impression that our fleet will loose its battle to control Prescott's Star, and that Admiral Vanguard will then come out and free them."  
  
"Send those who are caught in open rebellion to Justice. They'll deal with them just like they have on all the other world's we've taken over." The telepaths in ISC Justice Department were amongst the most gifted of all ISC telepaths. If anyone could make the Terrans who rebelled against GU rule see reason, it would be them. "Have Taskforce 90153 form up, it's time to remove the Terran's false hope in salvation by one Admiral Ulysses Vanguard." Shortly thereafter, the prodigious might of 901st Fleet of the GU Peaceforces began to move. A yellow pinprick of light was directly in front of them, the place where the final resistance in the Sector would be crushed.  
  
ISS Valley Forge  
  
Ulysses was awakened by the insistent piercing chime of his com. Rolling out of bed, he swatted the com acceptance key.  
  
"Vanguard here, go ahead."  
  
"Admiral," P'tel's usually cool voice had a barely discernable edge. "Sensor platform 459 - A has detected an incoming warp footprint. It is a large one Sir, and it is coming from the probable approach vector of the Galactic Unity Fleet. ETA is seven minutes, 56.2 seconds a present velocity."  
  
"Order the Fleet and fortifications to battlestations." Ulysses said as he began slipping on his uniform. "I'll be on the Flag Bridge momentarily. Ulysses out." And so it begins. Ulysses thought. 


	38. Chapter 35

Chapter 35 - Extra Innings by CaptainChewbacca  
  
The bridge of Cardassia's Song was a barely constrained chaos from Damar's command pedestal. As he scanned the battle, things didn't look quite so grim as they had only a few minutes earlier. He watched in amazement as the Terran destroyers extended their shields around his Vole-ships, which continued to lob heavy blasts against the unity ships. The "Galactic Unity" had sent an immense fleet, but they hadn't expected to start fighting quite so soon, which meant they weren't properly ordered. The fleet was attacking in largely one group, unspecified, using simple numbers to pound back the two enemy fleets into submission.  
  
"Fleet Status?" Damar knew he was losing ships fast.  
  
"Almost twenty percent losses, Legate Damar." Garak at his shoulder like a phantom. Analysis of the outcome doesn't look promising. Unless we can turn this around soon, I expect total losses within the hour."  
  
"I suppose you have another plan?" Silently, Damar wondered why he had civilian oversight on this mission.  
  
"Actually, I do." Garak tapped a few buttons. "With the position our ships are currently at, we can destroy almost sixty percent of the Terran fleet. Once we do that, we can use the debris as a screen and retreat to Cardassian spa-"  
  
A loud crack emanated from Garak's jaw as Damar's fist connected solidly, sending him on his back to the floor. The Commissioner was in shock. "You listen to me, you pathetic worm." Damar was visibly enraged. "Civilian orders got us into this mess, and I have no doubt more civilian advice would be most unhelpful. I am not going to betray Sisko like some Terran general and run home. We are going to fight!" The last he said loud enough for the whole bridge.  
  
Garak stood and rubbed his jaw as it clicked into place. On the tactical display, another Sartan exploded under a volley of plasma torpedoes. "We are going to die." He said under his breath.  
  
--- --- ---  
  
On the bridge of the Transcendence, Fleet Commander Ariidon was very pleased. He studied the display and smiled. The unenlightened Terrans and Cardassians had been in the middle of a large engagement when his fleet stumbled upon them. Although this meant that both fleets were somewhat diminished, that also meant that to get to Bajor, he would have to go through the fleets. And now they seemed to be working together, a most upsetting development. "Form up assault groups nineteen through forty, and have them mass at the center of our formation to split them." No need for overcomplicated work, the sheer power of the unity fleet would overwhelm them.  
  
"Commander, we still are not able to destroy the Cardassian mauler-ships." A Pronhoulite lieutenant was monitoring the battle. His tail twitched in frustration. "The Imperial destroyers continue to deflect our fire, and their Superdreadnoughts are equipped with far better torpedoes than we anticipated."  
  
The commander sighed. "Increase fire on the Imperial destroyers, and dispatch the sixth Superdreadnought group to disable the Imperials." He gave his orders with disinterest. There was no challenge here, only waiting.  
  
As Ariidon watched the battle display, a ship suddenly appeared beyond the edge of the Imperial fleet. "What is that?" He pointed to the red dot that was now approaching the Imperial rear.  
  
"An Imperial Sovereign-class, sir. It has taken heavy damage, but all its systems are operating at full efficiency." The Pronhoulite twitched again. "I see no way it could be functioning with such damage."  
  
"Ignore it." Ariidon lapsed back to an amused boredom. "One ship is of no consequence."  
  
--- --- ---  
  
"Are you sure?" Sisko leaned forward on his throne.  
  
"I'm sure, Admiral." The lieutenant continued to scan. "The Enterprise is somehow up and running, all systems operational."  
  
"Signal them, get me Admiral Lore." This is good sign, Sisko thought. Morale had taken a hit when the banner ship of the Empire went down, but now it was charging to the fore.  
  
"Admiral, I have the Enterprise." Sisko nodded.  
  
On the screen he could see the ruin of the flag bridge of the Enterprise. Consoles were torn from their mounts, wires were dangling from the ceiling, and bodies littered the floor. But most disturbing was what was in the center of the image. There sat Admiral Lore on his command throne with a coil of glowing optical cable connected to one of his cranial ports. The cord shimmered with the volume of data traveling through it. Sisko was speechless.  
  
"Hello, Admiral Sisko." Lore's mouth didn't move, but his voice came over the display from the Enterprise's systems. "I suppose an explanation is in order."  
  
"You're damn right it is, Lore." Sisko felt a sinking feeling in his stomach. It would be the M-5 debacle all over again. "What have you done?"  
  
"The main computer core sustained heavy damage due to a warp-field backwash when two cores were ejected. All main systems were offline." Lore continued to stare straight ahead, not moving. "A Cardassian boarding party anesthetized over ninety-five percent of the crew, but I was able to overcome them. Unfortunately, environmental controls were offline, and the crew needed an antidote within ten minutes."  
  
"So you thought you'd handle it yourself.?" There was an incredulous tone in Sisko's voice.  
  
"Indeed, Sir. The crew has been treated, and should regain consciousness within fifteen minutes. I felt I could contribute to the battle in the meantime."  
  
Sisko sighed and rubbed his head. What the hell. "Agreed, Admiral Lore. The command of the second group will remain with Commodore Minchori, but you are free to engage all Unity targets. We have a ceasefire agreement with the Cardassian fleet for the duration of the engagement."  
  
A handful of heartbeats passed in silence. "Understood. Enterprise out." The display went back to the battle. A pair of wraiths passed over a Unity dreadnought group, tearing jagged holes into their ablative armor. The comm clicked to signal a message from Kira.  
  
"Are you sure this is wise, Admiral? You know what happened to the M5."  
  
"Yes, Captain." Sisko leaned back in his chair. "But right now I doubt we could stop Lore if we wanted to."  
  
--- --- ---  
  
The ISS Enterprise flew through the fleet with more agility than any ship her size had a right to be. Lore could see through every sensor, in every direction and in every spectrum. He marveled at the beauty of the EM signatures of the phaser blasts, of the radiation spikes emanating from the torpedoes that grazed his shields. Every hull seal, every conduit on the ship tingled in Lore's mind. He WAS the Enterprise. He was a ship of war.  
  
Acquiring targets at extreme range, Lore sent volleys of quantum torpedoes to break up formations of Unity ships. He twisted, dodged, and wove a curtain of deadly energy around himself. Again and again he fired his phaser lances through ships, all the while cycling his shields so that they met individual hits with maximum strength, at a speed no humanoid mind could comprehend. He was actually using LESS energy for his shields than normal, but was absorbing far more damage.  
  
Suddenly, Lore found himself in the middle of the Unity fleet, coming up hard on their Monitor ship. It was immense, but Lore's keen sensors detected a weakness. He powered up his torpedo launchers and emptied them into the rear of the ship before banking away. A flurry of blue-white explosions rocked the back of the vessel as its engines went dead. Lore mused, as he fought his way back to the fleet, that the Transcendence would never move again without significant repairs.  
  
--- --- ---  
  
"Commander! Main engines are down, as are warp cores four, seven and eight!" Alarms blared across the bridge of the Unity command ship.  
  
"Seal the drive section at once!" Ariidon bellowed over the din. "We'll get by on thrusters until we can effect repairs. They can tow us to Bajor if we need." He glanced to his weapons officer. "How is our weapon status?"  
  
"Full power, Commander."  
  
"Excellent." Ariidon sat down. "Show them they aren't the only ones that can make crippling strikes."  
  
--- --- ---  
  
"Incoming!" The Saratoga was rocked by plasma blasts. A large battlegroup had broken through the line and was now pounding Kira mercilessly. "INCREASE SHIELDS! Target their weapons!"  
  
"No effect, Captain! Primary power relays are offline!" There was panic in the air. The lights dimmed and came back on. "We just lost main power, Captain. We're on reserves and those are dropping fast."  
  
Kira stood glaring in silent fury at the ships on the screen. Their blue lights glowed like the eyes of predators. "Abandon ship." She turned to her crew. "Abandon ship. Signal all crew. I'm going to the flag bridge with the Admiral. We'll engage the forcefields and continue to direct from there."  
  
Crewmen scrambled to escape pods as Kira headed for her private turbolift. "Computer, activate automated combat sequence Beta four." The doors closed and she sank eight levels to the flag bridge.  
  
The doors opened into a still bustling room. Flag staff would not be permitted to evacuate as long as the Admiral remained. "How bad is it, Admiral?" Kira took her seat next to Ben.  
  
"Could be worse," he smiled to her. "The Cardassians and us are each down almost twenty-five percent, and we have a long way to go before we have numbers on the Unity."  
  
"Can we retreat?" Kira checked the displays. Things were indeed going bad. Half of Eddington's group was gone, Minchori was fast becoming surrounded along with his fleet, and the Saratoga was now abandoned.  
  
"No, we can't." Sisko shook his head. "If we did, they'd pick us off as we ran. Their weapons have a range better than our upgraded torpedoes. Hell, we can't even warp-ram them for all of the subspace interference around here." He looked at his XO "We're in trouble, Nerys."  
  
"I know, Ben." Kira smiled. "At least I'm going to die for the right man." The ship shuddered under another volley and the rear wall of the bridge exploded. A sheet of fire swept across the bridge, throwing everyone to the floor. Sisko rolled over, trying to find a railing to steady himself. His grasping hand reached out, and instead found a small box. Instinctively, he held it to his chest and pressed the gems on its four sides.  
  
The top of the box opened, and a shimmering white light flashed out.  
  
In the middle of the fleet, a great wheel of light appeared. Over twenty kilometers across, it blossomed from nothingness into a great hole in space, with a golden light shining from it. All of the ships near it were brushed aside by the shock and arcs of energy coming from it, except the Saratoga. A wave on white energy suddenly leapt from the surface of Bajor, streaking faster than light into the hole. It dragged the Saratoga with it into the golden light, and then everything vanished.  
  
--- --- ---  
  
What is it? It is not the Sisko.  
  
It is the Sisko, but another one. Another game.  
  
"Game?" Suddenly Sisko was standing on the main deck of DS9.  
  
"Another game." Jennifer was suddenly next to him. "You are another game. Our Sisko taught us about such things. "  
  
"What? Who are you? Where am I?" He reached out to grab her, but she vanished. He turned around and was in his quarters.  
  
Now his son Jake was speaking to him. "You are the Sisko. Another, Sisko. Your game is ending."  
  
"Yes, I am losing the battle." Sisko looked at the being with his son's face. The eyes were not ones he recognized. "Why do you care?"  
  
"We are of Bajor." Kira was at his side. "You are of Bajor. You will take our word to them. You have many tasks."  
  
"You're damn right I do." He had better things to do than play riddles with aliens. Like find his son. "And winning that battle is one of them."  
  
"He cannot win." Now Julian was speaking to Kira. "We must change the game."  
  
"It is not linear." Kira shook her head.  
  
"But he is of Bajor. Bajor must remain linear. Its game must not end." Julian looked to Sisko. "Will you play the game?"  
  
"Will I fight? Yes." Sisko crossed his arms.  
  
"We must tell him more, he must learn." Now Jennifer was standing with them.  
  
"Not yet. He is not ready." Julian stretched out his hand, palm up, to Sisko. "We will send you help, to win the game. In one of your year's time, you will return to us at this place, and we will speak more." There was a flash of light, and Sisko was back on the floor of the bridge. Kira was next to him, badly burned.  
  
She looked into his eyes. "Emissary...?" Her head dropped as she gasped for air. Her lungs were scarred, and now breathing was almost impossible.  
  
"Medic!" Sisko bellowed and a blue-uniformed man came running. He knelt to treat Kira. "Give me a sensor report!"  
  
"Admiral!" The lieutenant's voice was filled with disbelief. "I'm detecting almost three thousand old-style Jem'Hadar destroyers emerging from the anomaly.  
  
"What?"  
  
--- --- ---  
  
"What?" Legate Damar was dumbfounded.  
  
"I said, sir, that a Jem'Hadar fleet has emerged from the wormhole and is hailing us. They are looking for Gul-Dukat and are awaiting orders. They don't recognize the hull signatures, but they claim to be allies of the Cardassian Union."  
  
Damar and Garak looked at each other. "What the hell is going on, Garak?"  
  
Garak slowly craned his neck back. "I would say an opportunity, my dear Legate." Garak smiled. "Signal the lead Jem'Hadar ship, and give them our sensor feed, with the Unity fleet as enemy targets."  
  
"Yes... YES!" Damar laughed out loud. "Order them to make every possible effort to destroy the Unity fleet."  
  
--- --- ---  
  
"What?" Fleet Commander Ariidon was dumbfounded.  
  
"Commander, they are old style Jem'Hadar attack-class destroyers. They could be old Dominion remnants off the white and out for revenge, I don't know." The tactical officer's voice was quavering.  
  
"They came from behind and started firing and ramming our ships on their rear sections, where shield strength was weakest They are wreaking havoc with our ships!" On the screen fireballs continued to blossom as the small fighters tore through the Unity fleet like locusts.  
  
How in the universe could this be happening? Ariidon's mind whirled. "Signal all ships! Rotate modulation and target them. Keep trying to transmit-"  
  
"Commander! There are eighteen destroyers closing in on our position at flank speed!"  
  
"Evasive action! Bring weapons..." Ariidon remembered that the Transcendence's weapons were offline. "Screening fire, intercept-" But he never got a chance to finish the order, as over a dozen Jem'Hadar fighters tore through the armor and superstructure of the ship at full impulse.  
  
Victory was life... and death.  
  
--- --- ---  
  
On the Flag Bridge of the Saratoga crewmen were cheering. The Jem'Hadar ships had destroyed most of the Unity capital ships, and now the smaller ones were fleeing into the subspace corridors.  
  
"Stand down, all ships!" Sisko smiled and rolled his baseball in his hands. "Begin repairs and begin to bring the fleet under order for return to Bajor.  
  
"Incoming transmission from the Cardassia's Song, Admiral."  
  
Sisko turned to the screen and saw similar jubilation on Damar's bridge. "Well done, Admiral Sisko." Damar smiled. "I don't know where those ships came from, but I'm betting they were your doing. Someday you'll have to tell me."  
  
"I look forward to it, Legate." Sisko laughed. "My ships will render you whatever assistance you need in retrieving your injured crewmen, and in making any repairs to your ships necessary to get you under way." An edge came into his voice. "In one day all operational ships will leave the system."  
  
"Understood, Admiral." Damar nodded, his eyes narrowing. "And I offer to you the same assistance."  
  
"Thank you, Legate." Sisko turned to end the transmission.  
  
"Oh, Admiral?"  
  
"Yes, Legate?" Sisko raised an eyebrow.  
  
"Find your son." Damar. Gave a military nod, and the channel closed.  
  
"A home run, Admiral?" Kira was in her seat, groggy from the medication she had been given.  
  
Admiral Sisko sat on his throne and began to check damage reports. "I'd call it a Grand Slam, Captain." 


	39. Chapter 36

Chapter 36 - In Death Ground  
  
ISS Valley Forge  
  
Ulysses strode down the short hallway to the Flag Bridge, already abuzz with activity. Red alert alarms ceased their piercing cacophony, but the steady pulse of the crimson alert panels remained, mirroring Ulysses own quickening heartbeat. He strode through the double blast doors and stopped, surveying the organized chaos swirling around him.  
  
"Admiral on the Bridge!" A marine honor guard at the door barked, his armored feet clanking together and his similarly clad arm snapping upward in salute so perfect even his Academy DI would have found it impossible to criticize it. All action temporarily stopped on the Flag Bridge as the assembled officers and enlisted ratings braced to attention and raised their arms in salute. All save Commissar Stevens, she merely stood and stared at him. Ulysses responded to his crew's courtesy in kind crisply, his hand knifing through air. As one, the personnel of the Flag Bridge released their own salutes, staring up at him from the pit that surrounded his station. Again, all save Commissar Stevens who busied herself with her station mounted near the bulkhead behind Ulysses.  
  
"Report." Ulysses voice resonated throughout the Flag Bridge, and he was surprised at how calm it sounded, betraying none of the somersaulting his stomach was doing. The officers staffing the Flag Bridge seemed to take heart from his calm, even voice and presence, relaxing from their near frantic pace to a more even approach. They still had an edge, which was good, but they no longer were ON edge.  
  
"GU Fleet is just entering the system now Admiral. CIC is still working up numbers, but preliminary estimates are that they have a slight advantage in SDs." An aide provided. Ulysses nodded, then continued on to his throne in the center of the bridge. Settling in, he slipped his hands into the gloves that controlled the holo display. The Flag Bridge melted away, replaced with a 360 degree bubble of holographic space. ID tags popped up over all Squadrons, along with Battlegroup and Taskforce Flagships, to allow rapid access to overall battle stats and greatly ease unit identification. With a deft flick of his wrist and a gesture of his hand, the displays POV shifted up and back from his ships, settling nearly over Lilith's substantial polar icecap. Ulysses never got tired of the photorealistic visuals of the holodisplay. This is what the Gods must view things like, he thought, feeling the rush of power the view gave him.  
  
Suddenly, a rash of angry red contacts swarmed up in the distance. CIC began to assign them class designations as quickly as they could. Which turned out to be surprisingly fast, for the enemy seemed to have his EW suites offline. The enemy vessels were also arrayed in what was almost a parade ground formation, a long wall of capital ships with their escorts arrayed about it similarly. Their fleet numbers were slightly better than his own. They had decelerated to impulse short of his hastily assembled warp inhibitor network, slowing nearly to a crawl. And had done so deliberately. Intimidation, Ulysses thought. They WANT us to see how strong they are, to dishearten us, to try and break our will to fight. Not that that was going to happen.  
  
"My God. there's so many of them!" Commissar Stevens' voice filled the sudden tension filled silence on the Flag Bridge. She had just blurted out what everyone in the fleet was feeling at that exact moment, and the fact that she had voiced it increased the anxiety in the room above and beyond what it would normally have been.  
  
Ulysses pivoted his chair to face Stevens' station. He liked to speak to his officers whenever possible, although once the battle was met, it became far too easy to loose track of which direction was front and which was back within the cocoon of the holodisplay. "Yes there certainly is Commissar. The good news is that when we engage them, we're bound to hit something with that many targets to choose from." A soft chuckle ran around the bridge. The remark had it's desired response, cutting the tension back down to acceptable levels. "Orders to the Fleet." Ulysses said smoothly. "Execute battle plan Chimera Two."  
  
On the holoplot, the titanic, hulking forms of Imperial cargo ships broke orbit. Flying away from Lilith along the safest least-time courses to the subspace corridor network loci, Ulysses could practically hear their crews' sighs of relief to be exiting the war zone. Unfortunately, the least time corridor route required them to nearly go through the approaching GU Fleet, so the majority were taking the longer routes. But there were some diehards who were willing to risk the fact that the GU would stay true to form and leave non-combatant craft largely alone by making for the least time loci.  
  
"Admiral, I have a signal coming in from the enemy commander."  
  
"Put it up please." Time to see the face of the enemy. Ulysses thought as he leaned back in his chair.  
  
The com window blossomed on his display, and the face on the other end of the com caused Ulysses to pause for a fraction of a second. A Terran? And a Fleet Marshal no less. Ulysses thought, taking in the gold, sky blue and ivory white uniform of the ISC Peaceforces and the shoulder flashes of the ISC equivalent of a Fleet Admiral. Starfleet command will be very interested in that little bit of information. I wonder how Pub. In. will end up spinning it? The Empire's propaganda ministry had been spouting off of late that no Terran would willingly leave the Empire to join something like the ISC, that all those billions that had left with their retreating forces had been taken by force rather than willingly joining the aliens. It would appear that that 'fact', like so many others in the Empire, would need some revising. Just as Ulysses himself had thought it would when he first heard it rebroadcast on the local news networks.  
  
"I am Fleet Marshal Teresa Chora of the Galactic Unity Peaceforces."  
  
Ulysses nodded respectfully. "Pleased to meet you Fleet Marshal. My name is Ulysses Vanguard, Admiral, Imperial Starfleet."  
  
"I surmised as much already Admiral. We have compiled quite a file on you in light of your recent elevation in rank."  
  
"Understandable, I would do the same thing in your position if I was able to. But then you didn't call just to tell me about my file in the Galactic Unity's database, did you?"  
  
"No, I didn't. Direct, just like your file says." Chora's mouth perked a bit, in a ghost of a smile, then quickly reverted to what seemed its customary, dour looking demeanor. "Since you are direct, let me get right to the heart of the matter. I am calling to demand your surrender, or at least the withdrawal of your mobile units from this system. There is no way the majority of your forces can engage us unless we let them. We can pick them off at our leisure from beyond their range. You know this. I plead with you not to sacrifice them needlessly, there is no need for them to die today."  
  
Teresa hoped that he would comply, for he seemed like a reasonable sort for a Terran. So far, the orders she had seen issued by him supported everything his file said about his character. Most Terran Commanders wouldn't have ordered the civilian populous to remain civil. Hell, most had done the exact opposite in the planets already conquered, and the civilians were practicing civil disobedience or joining the militia and playing terrorist. This would change in time, just like it had once the Terran's propaganda was broken and the true nature of the ISC was seen by the people that had been liberated from the Terran Empire the last time. But there would always be some who needed to visit Justice to be shown the error of their ways. She sincerely hoped that Admiral Vanguard was not one of these individuals. The smartest play he could do would be to surrender outright, for while it might take some years, the ISC and Dominion would overrun the Terran Empire eventually. In the interim, she didn't think that a brevet Admiral, even one with Ulysses' reputation, would last long if he surrendered a major system and retreated back to the Terran Empire. Starfleet officers that displeased their Emperor had developed a nasty habit of disappearing of late.  
  
"I'm sorry, Fleet Marshal, but I must decline your offer." Ulysses said, raising his hands from their armrest and sticking his chin on their steepled fingers.  
  
"Admiral Vanguard, I beg you not to order your people to their deaths in an unwinable fight."  
  
A wolfish smile played at Ulysses lips and his lone eye blazed. "For one who hasn't even fired a shot yet, you seem quite certain of your victory, Fleet Marshal. If you want this system, come and take it." The com window closed and the channel was cut by a gesture from Ulysses.  
  
"Open a channel to Rear Admiral Anace."  
  
"Channel open Admiral." Paulette Wendell said from beyond the holodisplay's barely translucent veil as the com window blossomed to life, showing brevet Rear Admiral Suzette Anace's oval face, curly brown hair and deep brown eyes.  
  
ISS Vigilance, Enroute to the Outer System of Prescott's Star  
  
"Rear Admiral Anace," Ulysses' calm voice resonated throughout the Vigilance's Flag Bridge as his virtual doppelganger spoke on the holodisplay, "you have your orders, and it's what you and your ships have trained so hard for these last few days. Good luck and good hunting." Ulysses said with a nod.  
  
"Aye sir!" Suzette Anace deep voice replied. "We'll be ready when you give the order Skipper."  
  
Ulysses com hologram nodded again. "Vanguard out." And his com window closed as the connection was closed from his end.  
  
"Open a channel to the Taskforce." Anace waited till the connection was established, then continued. "Ok people, I want as intense of a passive watch on our little deception as possible. I don't want there to be as much as a flicker on the GU's plots. We're just a bunch of merchies going hell bent for leather to the least time loci." A predatory grin birthed on her lips as a soft chuckle ran around the Flag Bridge. "Keep us out of their hair and inconspicuous, just like we trained. All except our escort. Captain Terrel, I want you to act like you would in any other escort situation." She told the lone Imperial vessel in her Taskforce that wasn't hidden behind its holo-chameleon cloak. "After all, one wouldn't want the big, bad GU to try a long range attack on helpless Imperial merchantmen. Keep you ECM at a respectable output. It'll help mask the mines' and buoys' deployment when we reach point Invictus."  
  
ISS Valley Forge  
  
Ulysses was very thankful that the Nightingale yards had cranked out as many of the warp inhibitor platforms as they had. It was still far short of the net such an important system should have, but at least it would keep them coming at impulse for almost four hours. Even such a small radius of coverage centered around Lilith was far preferable to letting them drop out of warp in his lap. As he watched the holodisplay, what had been clearly defined enemy formations finally dissolved into a sea of ECM as they picked up their pace of advance.  
  
"Order Indomitable Squadron to deploy recon drones to cover the GU's line of advance." The RD's would give him a better picture of the enemy's actions now that they had hid behind their EW systems, but their limited duration and necessity of flying close to the enemy meant they would have to constantly be replenished until the range wound down. "All ships will form up, formation Talbot, and proceed on course 149 mark 025, 3/4rs impulse."  
  
"The fleet reports ready Admiral."  
  
"Engage."  
  
--- --- ---  
  
The assembled ships' formation shifted smoothly, the ease of the manuvers borne of incessant weeks of drills that had forged the 401st Imperial Fleet into a finely honed weapon of warfare. The mighty Galaxies, Sovereigns and Wraiths fell into place in a slightly concave, ovoid disc with squadron level escorts tucked in close to provide support. Other ships, primarily fast attack hunter/killers like Akiras, Prometheus' and Soulwolfs, slipped in along the flanks of the rounded wall in a oval half cone. Aegeans, Nebulas Steamrunners and Ark Royals tucked themselves and their escorts into the relatively safe pocket this formation generated, free to perform their tasks with little fear of direct opposition. Then the EW drones began to fill space with a plethora of false signatures that were still largely hidden from any sensors the enemy could have by the intense and copious amounts of ECM Lilith's Battlestations were putting out. Ulysses forces had learned much since the last fight. Analysis of captured GU ships had given them insight in ways to better their electronic warfare's effectiveness, and they had shifted their canned routines to take advantage of this.  
  
--- --- ---  
  
The GU Fleet had thoroughly masked itself now, but Ulysses' ships ECCM began its work, endeavoring to sift through the false sensor echoes to bring actual targets to light. It was a tall task, for even with the knowledge gleaned from the previous attack's wrecks, the Unity's electronic warfare systems still had a slight edge over their latest Imperial counterparts. As the electronics of the two fleets squared off, the ships themselves closed on each other, winding the range between them down with neither side blinking.  
  
Subtle as a bull in a china shop alright. They just came in, let us get a good look at them, then cruised in system at max STL.  
  
"Order the fighter strikes to commence, but make sure they keep to extreme range. I don't want to loose fighters needlessly by sending them into the jaws of that unimpeded enemy wall."  
  
His order went out, and shortly there after, a mass of tiny blue light beads erupted onto the holodisplay, spilling from his ship's flight decks and shuttle bays. They were joined shortly thereafter by a much larger swarm boiling out from orbital and dirtside bases on Lilith. There were ten thousand of them, and they lit off for the Unity fleet at their max rated velocity. 


	40. Chapter 37

Chapter 37 - In Death Ground  
  
Vigilance Taskforce, Point Invictus, Prescott's Star  
  
"Coming up on Point Invictus now Ma'am."  
  
Suzette Anace's mouth birthed a tooth filled predatory grin. "Execute Chimera - Phase One on my mark. Three, two, one, MARK!"  
  
The minelayers that were assigned to the Vigilance Taskforce, easily as large as the massive merchantmen they were playacting as, began to birth clouds of space black stealthed mines and Ulysses new energy buoys. Energy buoys were virtually never used in modern combat because they were often destroyed before they even fired a shot, and once they began to fire, they became even more obvious targets. Little more than a power plant, and EW suite and an energy weapon system, it was far more cost effective to build full up OWPs. But the drawback of OWPs was that they are hard to make stealthy. They rely on numbers and their hardiness to survive till it's time for them to launch. But Ulysses' plan called for stealth to be the key, not hardiness. And as such, he had revived the energy buoy weapons platform from history and was seeding it in with his hastily deployed minefield. If all went as planned, the enemy wouldn't know they were there till it was too late.  
  
On Suzette's holoplot, nothing changed. Which was as it should be, for if she couldn't detect the mines deployment, there was no way the enemy could, even with their slightly better sensors. The predatory smile remained as thousands of invisible, deadly spoor trailed out in her Battlegroup's wake. The position of Point Invictus was almost perfect, for the Unity fleet was boring near directly for it.  
  
"Orders to the Battlegroup: course change, come to port, heading 120 mark 015." Backdropped by the inhospitable lump of gray, lifeless rock that was Prescott's Star V that was in the local vicinity as it made its leisurely sweep around the distant yellow primary, the formation of Merchies snapped onto their new course with just enough raggedness to be believable. Under normal circumstances, Suzette would have been ashamed to be commanding during such sloppy maneuvering, but the seeming lack of coordination was just what she had been training to achieve. That's it you bastards! She thought. Just keep going straight and you'll blunder right into The Skipper's little trap!  
  
ISCV Purity of Heart  
  
"Ma'am, the Division of Imperial Merchant Vessels are changing course, they appear to be commencing a dogleg maneuver that will carry them well clear of the fleet. Should we detach a squadron to scope them out?" A young Meskeen Lieutenant asked  
  
Teresa Chora thought for a moment before replying. "Not much point. As a show of good faith, High Command wants all legitimate merchant traffic left alone, a policy I agree with wholeheartedly. And besides, they only have a lone Destroyer as escort and are staying well away from even extreme PPD range. If they attempt to close to weapons range, then send out the patrol. Otherwise, I want all the ships I can have with me when I finally engage Admiral Vanguard. He's up to something, I can feel it, I just can't put my finger on it yet."  
  
"Fleet Marshal, the Terran's fighters will be in extreme weapons range in three minutes."  
  
"Have all assault ships prepare a warm welcome for them since they are so willing to die in a lost cause." There was no sense wasting PPD fire on something as fragile as a fighter. It would be like smashing an egg with an antimatter warhead. Far better to have the plasma torpedo biased ships in her fleet go on Point Defense duty.  
  
Prescott's Star[/b]  
  
The fighters closed to extreme standoff attack range and let loose a torrent of quantum torpedoes. Over 120,000 were birthed in a near solid wave of blue white that proceeded to rush towards the rapidly closing Unity fleet. As much as Ulysses wanted to equip them with his enhanced quantums, he didn't want to tip his hand until the blow would be decisive. Because of this, the standard quantums homed in on a mere handful of GU ships. Hiding behind their near invulnerable overloaded shield grids, the quantum volley slashed in on the enemy wall of battle, spending themselves against shields and then armor. Three enemy Superdreadnoughts and a number of lesser ships fell out of formation, air and debris streaming wrecks with huge white hot fissures gouged deep into their armored hulls. But like any standard torpedo engagement against ships of the line, the fighter strike hadn't been expressly targeted to take out enemy ships. It was merely to soften up the opponents' shields by creating small chinks in them that were more susceptible to phaser strikes and to tear a ragged hole in the enemy's EW drones. The fact that a handful of superdreadnoughts had been knocked out was pure gravy. With their primary ordinance expended, the fighters wheeled to return and rearm. They would be able to attack once more before the fleets reached engagement range.  
  
But even as they executed snap turns and boosted away under maximum acceleration, the plasma heavy ISC Cruisers that had streamed out a distance ahead of the main fleet body spat defiance back at them. Their shotgunned plasma torps split to track six individual targets for their customary lone one. Screaming up the now retreating fighter's wakes, the packets of energized plasma caught a few before they reached their max range and winked out of existence as their containment fields failed. Orange phaser beams slashed through space, but at the extreme range, actually hitting something as maneuverable and small as a fighter through its ECM was a tall task for even ISC sensors. The 401st Fleet recorded it's first combat casualties of the day, but all things considered, the initial fighter strikes had done everything right and gotten off quite lightly in the exchange. The tonnage and firepower losses for the enemy had been far in excess of the handful of Cobras lost in return. The opening attack done, calm returned to the battlefield as the two massive fleets continued to bore in on each other relentlessly.  
  
ISCV Purity of Heart  
  
Fleet Marshal Chora winced as Fearless Defender, Even Hand of Justice and Tenacious Civility fell out of her battle line. Close to two dozen escort vessels were also heavily damaged, wounded minnows next to the gutted sharks of the dying Superdreadnoughts. Orders need not be given, for her officers knew what to do all on their own. Fresh EW drones were salvoed, slotting themselves into place in the formation, filling the large hole the torpedo volley had blown in her wall of ECM. A light cruiser squadron was dispatched to save as many as could be pulled from the wrecks. Other ships, still in her squadron and holding their own, had a plethora of minor wounds - hull breaches, glowing scars in armor, damaged subsystems and the like.  
  
Her fist clenched in anger as her counter volley claimed only a handful of the Imperial fighters. She longed for fighters of her own, so that she could respond in kind. But ISC High Command had decided to concentrate its resources on ships of the line, not small, fragile fighters. As such, she dare not send her lightest units out to hit at long range in a counter blow, for they were far more vulnerable to long ranged fire and far more expensive in both materials and personnel for every one lost. She took some solace in the fact that she would soon be in PPD range and this battle could be quickly finished.  
  
ISS Valley Forge  
  
The light beads of Imperial Cobras swarmed back into their births on Ulysses holoplot, those from Lilith's fixed fortifications cycling through the Ark Royals' hangar decks to rearm. After the next attack, they would barely be done rearming again before the battle lines met. And it wouldn't be standoff attack they would be reaming for, it would be close attack, with PPC gun packs attached to external hard points instead of externally and internally mounted quantum torpedoes. And it was then that the fighters would be blooded, for even in the swirling near-chaos of a fleet vs. fleet engagement, there was little something as fragile as a fighter could do to hide from close in weapons.  
  
Fully rearmed now, the near 10,000 strong swarm again sped off ahead to strike at the enemy. The Unity fleet was now much closer, having been close on the fighter strike's heels as they returned to reload.  
  
"Orders to the Fleet. Deploy armor and commence shield reinforcement forward. Damage control teams to the ready." Ulysses resisted the urge to rub his sweaty gloved palms on his uniform's legs, again surprised at how calm his voice sounded. This battle was different from the other ones he had fought, for in those, there had been no time to sit and stew as a potent force came inexorably closer. Both the S-8472 fleet and the first Unity attack had been fast paced affairs, with enemy contact rapidly established and nothing much to do but fight. Pre-combat jitters were getting to him, all his self doubt and feelings of unreadyness coming to the fore, as he could only wait for his plan to come to fruition and pray it would work.  
  
Prescott's Star  
  
The second fighter strike was nearly as successful as the first, and another rash of enemy vessels fell out of the Unity's formation, their hulls battered and broken. Again, long range PD plasma fire had little effect, the fleet fighters able to outrun most of the plasma torpedoes before they hit. But this time, the fleet fighters made it back to Ulysses wall of battle with the Unity fleet hot on their heels. They would be in extreme PPD range in mere minutes. But they were also just now entering Point Invictus' area of effect, and the storm of quantums had temporarily blinded their sensors to what lay in front of them  
  
ISCV Purity of Heart  
  
"Fleet Marshal! I am detecting tens of thousands of faint sensor returns, they're all around us!"  
  
"Mines!" Teresa hissed. "Anti-mine protocols NOW!"  
  
Her ships opened fire on the now visible targets, clawing at the nebulous sensor returns with their phasers and plasma torpedoes, blotting the from space. But Ulysses' emphasis on stealthing them had paid off. Combined by the perfectly timed second fighter strike, the mines and buoys had remained hidden until the Unity fleet was near totally enshrouded in them. Flashes of star bright light began to erupt within Chora's fleet as the mines unleashed their zero point energy warheads on her ships. But they weren't the worst, for even as their eye searing self immolation spent itself against her ships, a deadly latticework of silver lances was let loose. Fusion beams, the massively powerful but short legged weapon system of the Hydrans, was unleashed at optimal range. The Purity of Heart shuddered and bucked as brilliant sliver lances ravaged her.  
  
ISS Valley Forge, Flag Bridge  
  
Dear God, Ulysses thought, somewhat shocked, it actually worked. Fusion Beams spider webbed throughout the Unity formation, adding their energies to the simple mines that were wreaking terrible havoc on the ISC vessels. Whole squadrons were falling out of formation, bleeding debris and air into the swirling cauldron of released energy that enshrouded them. "All units, engage Helping Hand maneuver on my mark. Three, two, one, MARK!" On his command, tractors flashed outward, catching all non-Slipstream capable units, save the fire support and carrier ships nestled in the formation's pocket, in a web of mutual support. Then, after this was accomplished, the entire Fleet flashed out of normal space for a fraction of a second only to reappear well within standard phaser range of the Unity Fleet.  
  
There was an imperceptible shudder followed by a metallic groaning sound as the Forge lodged her protest at the excessive strain even the millisecond at Slipstream while dragging such a load along with her. The maneuver put stupendous strain on her space frame, causing micro fractures to form across her hull. Throughout Ulysses entire fleet, ships were strained to the near breaking point. But in the end, it worked. The holodisplay shifted to show the now much closer Unity Fleet. The mines were done now, either having spent themselves or destroyed, as were his Fusion buoys. But they had done their job. What had been an unshaken enemy Fleet, with near double his own weight of metal, was now brought down to near half again his number in active units. Most of those still functioning were damaged to some degree. And best of all, his maneuver had brought the 401st within the PPD's minimum range.  
  
"All ships, open fire! Fireplan Alpha Four!"  
  
ISS Valley Forge, Slipstream One  
  
"Damn it!" Clay Heidberg swore as he stared at his master situation display. "I told him that this little stunt was likely to fry the nacelle inducers! 'Acceptable risk', he said. Well now look, just like I told him would happen when we dragged that much extra mass into Slipstream, we no longer have FTL!" He swatted his com badge. "Bridge, this is Slipstream One. Don't expect to go to Slipstream any time soon, the entire nacelle inducer matrix is fused and will require time in a repair slip to fix!"  
  
"Understood Chief." P'tel's calm voice replied. "This was allowed for. Do what you can. P'tel out." The same story was being played out across the fleet as every slipstream capable ship had the exact same problem show up. Aside from the fused nacelle inducers though, there was only some minor microfracturing for damage. The 401st was near 100% combat effective, and was within range of the enemy fleet.  
  
ISCV Purity of Heart  
  
That sneaky sonofabitch! Teresa thought. He set me up and I walked right into it! Then her holodisplay flickered, shifting the enemy fleet's position to one virtually on top of her own. There was no time to think about how the maneuver had been accomplished, she could only act. "All units, open fire! Emergency power to forward shields! Destroyer Flotilla Alpha, Cruiser Taskforces nine through thirteen and Battlecruiser Taskforces three through ten are to deploy aft along base course and up to gain clear PPD firing lines on the enemy fleet. Get a fresh volley of EW drones out NOW." With her fleet's damaged shields, shifting the power to the front ones would leave most of them quite weak in other aspects, but that couldn't be helped. Besides, Mr. Vanguard wanted to have a good old fashioned slug fest between capital ships. With her individually superior shielding and still superior numbers, she was still certain she could win even with his energy range firepower advantage. "Cruiser Battlegroups 39 through 46, concentrate fire on their Aegean class support ships hiding just behind their wall. Take them out and we'll have a much easier time taking these Imperial scum out.  
  
Prescott's Star  
  
Space disappeared as titanic energies crisscrossed space. Phasers and Phaser Lance fire crashed in on the ISC ships in a carefully controlled fireplan. Squadrons concentrated their fire on individual targets, killing ship after ship. Quantums, the enhanced ones this time, spat from Ulysses launchers and from the Type-V OWPs he had molecularly coupled to his unit's hulls. He wished that he had more Type-X's, but nearly all of those had been destroyed during the first battle and the yards hadn't had time to make more yet. Still, the Type-V's, packed with the enhanced Quantums were a handy addition. They were only slightly less vulnerable than fighters, but they packed considerably more punch by devoting all drive and life support space to heavier armor, more potent shields and more weapons bunkerage. The two fleets had slowed to a virtual stop relative to each other, content for the moment to flail away on one another at close range. 


	41. Chapter 38

Chapter 38 - In Death Ground  
  
Prescott's Star  
  
Cobras, Defiants, Novas and Sabers bobbed and weaved through the Unity's lines at knife fight range, burning EW drones from the stars and pouring close range fire in on the ISC Superdreadnoughts weaker aft shield arcs. They were tailed by ISC Destroyers and Cruisers sending reams of weapons fire after them. The smarter Imperial commanders used the dead and dying hulks of ISC ships as cover whenever possible, ducking behind them to shield them from their pursuers as they corkscrewed and jinked in wild evasion courses. A wing of Cobras, recently arrived from Imperial carriers that were still far beyond visual range dove in close to a ISC Superdreadnought, their PPCs sending a torrent of amber/orange bolts into a downed shield arc. The bolts ate away at the leviathans armored hide, leaving molten edged craters in its hull. The SD's carapace was punctured, sending a spray of molten hull plateing and frozen water vapor out into space. A torpedo magazine was hit, and the hull breach widened in a white hot fireball as the plasma warheads it contained detonated within the ships hull. As the Cobras pulled up and out from their successful run to target the next vessel on their assigned list, half their number were atomized as the attacked became the attacker. A The deep blue/green slash of one of the ISC SD's dorsal phaser arrays cut through space, and it was near perfectly aimed. Moving in a sweeping arc, its path intersected that of the Cobra wing, leaving nothing of half of them except subatomic debris clouds.  
  
ISC Superdreadnoughts sent a wave of plasma torps and phaser beams down on their assigned targets, still little more than a point of light to the unaided eye, causing more than one Imperial Wraith to wilt in spite of their attached Aegeans' best effort to boost it's shields. Fleet ISC Destroyers were also playing havoc amongst Ulysses fleet. They bored in on their assigned targets, trying to score kills on the precious Aegeans who's shield boosting capabilities were keeping Ulysses ships in the fight. They were met with a hail of PPC fire from the Aegean's escorting Achilles. Opening up with as many of their PPC's as they could bear on the approaching enemy, they sent out a near solid phalanx of bolts. It caught the first wave of hard charging Unity forces square, rapidly chewing through their shields and armor to kill the ship beneath. It was so intense that it forced the ISC Destroyers to break off and look for easier prey among the growing number of lamed Galaxies, Sovereigns and Wraiths in Ulysses battle line. They never got a chance, for a squadron of Vaadwaur ships swooped down on them just as they were completing their turns and sent a rippling red energy wave into them. Impulse drive shorted out and the transferred kinetic kick of the weapon's impact sent the ISC Destroyers spiraling out on random but linear flight paths. The Achilles' and Vaadwaur ships finished off their now drifting targets with concentrated weapons fire. Then the Vaadwaur flitted off to execute similar attacks elsewhere in Ulysses formation.  
  
ISS Valley Forge  
  
"Section Iota Five is weakening, order surrounding vessels to shift position to compensate." Ulysses said, his voice still calm even as his Flagship shook when a fresh volley slammed into her shields. He was hurting the enemy badly, using his close ranged firepower superiority given him by both his Phaser Lances and uprated quantum torpedoes to the hilt. But even this wouldn't be enough, as he had known from the outset. The Galactic Unity's shields were too much tougher than the Empire's own. GU Battleships and Superdreadnoughts died hard, and his own losses were increasing as the enemy overcame their shock and shifted their manuvers to exploit the situation. But he must wait as long as possible before implementing Phase Two of his battle plan. Otherwise, it might not prove decisive enough, leaving him in a position where all he could do is order a retreat and even then most of his ships wouldn't be able to break free given they lacked Slipstream drive.  
  
On the holodisplay, his concave wall parted slightly and a fresh volley of quantums slipped through the gaps, fired from the fire support Nebulas, Steamrunners and New Orleans classes hanging well aft of the battle line. Far too many ships were IDed in the black and white of combat casualties, and the number was growing. Not yet, just a bit longer, just hold on a bit longer, he thought. His hands were constantly in motion, issuing target prioritizations, shifting fire, pulling back to survey the battlefield.  
  
Commissar Stevens pierced the holographic veil. "Admiral, you must issue Phase Two."  
  
"Not yet Commissar." Ulysses said without pausing his direction of the battle nor taking his eyes off of the holodisplay before him.  
  
"Admiral, our ships are being decimated. You must issue the command before it's to late! We could loose the battle."  
  
"As I told you already Commissar, not yet!" There was an edge in Ulysses voice now, his words almost a growl. "You signed off on my battle plan, so let me worry about its execution. Now sit down and let me do the job I swore to do when I joined Starfleet, or so help me, I'll have you removed from the Flag Bridge for the duration of this battle!"  
  
Commissar Stevens closed her mouth with an audible click. Ulysses cursed his temper silently, but continued to fight the battle while keeping his back to the Section 31 Commissar. Finally, she relented and retreated through the holodisplay's aft section. There would very likely be repercussions to his defiance to his watchdog's wishes, but that was a battle for another day. Right now, he had to ensure that as many of his people as possible and the billions on Lilith were around to see it.  
  
ISS Voyager  
  
Commodore Cavit kept his command tucked in tight with the wing of Akiras he was tasked with escorting. He had a squadron of Intrepids under his command, a scratch built unit made up from the odds and ends left over from the first battle. But even if it wasn't as smooth in operation as Cavit would like it would have to do, for the enemy hadn't given them any more time to work out the final kinks.  
  
The Akiras had swept in on the enemy from their position along the fringes of Ulysses wall. The multicolored rainbow of weapons fire that filled space between the two opposing fleets gleamed dully off of the Akiras and his Intrepids charcoal gray armored hulls. Looping below the enemy wall, aiming for an apparent gap in its escort coverage, the small Imperial Battlegroup wrenched back the course to put themselves in a vertical climb parallel to the Unity's formation. The Akiras torpedo tubes went into continuous rapid fire, space flashing bright as their small weapons pod birthed volley after volley of quantum torpedoes.  
  
Cavit's Intrepids joined in with their own quantum tubes, pumping out pairs of the uprated weapons steady as a metronome. Phaser arrays joined in the medley of death, lancing outward as fast as their capacitors charged and unleashing their destructive energies against the enemy. The shimmering blue/white spheroids angled away from their motherships, pulling near 90 degree turns to align with their targets. They bored in, slamming into paper thin shields and vaporizing the armor underneath. Phaser strikes, with almost surgical precision, cut deep glowing wounds into the already savaged warships. Cavit and the squadron he was escorting were rewarded with a brilliant flash aft of them. An ISC Superdreadnought's warp core breached, turning the once powerful weapon of conquest into largely vaporized expanding cloud of debris. A howl of glee coursed through Voyager's rebuilt Flag Bridge.  
  
"Watch your screens, they aren't liable to be too pleased with us for taking out one of their heavies and should be dispatching somebody to take us out before we can do it again." Cavit said. Then, the tactical plot proved him right, for a squadron of ISC Battlecruisers broke off from their position to interpose themselves directly in the middle of their course. "Orders to the Squadron, Target those BC's and give 'em hell!" Shield reinforcement across the battlegroup shifted from their starboard to frontal shields arcs, and the already speeding Imperial warships boosted to maximum military power. All forward weapons systems on both Cavit's Squadron and the Akiras they were escorting went into continuous rapid fire. The enemy responded in kind, blue/green ISC phasers crisscrossing with the amber/orange ones of the Empire and brilliant white/blue quantums passing the deep red hued orange plasma torpedoes.  
  
Both ships disappeared as their conformal shield grids flared brightly under the assault, but neither flinched. At least until some of them started to die. The Akiras could put out an ungodly number of torpedoes for something their size, and with the new enhanced ones giving the torpedoes a far heavier punch, the ISC ships thicker shields were rapidly drained. Five star bright explosions and an abrupt cessation of enemy fire heralded another victory for Commodore Cavit's charges even as his command shuddered slightly from impacting their leftover debris at a high percentage of lightspeed. The fresh chorus of cheers were cut off abruptly as the Intrepid class ISS Osiris blew up. Her shields had been pounded near flat in the short but pointed engagement, and her helmsman hadn't been quick enough to dodge a particularly massive piece of debris left over from the ISC Battlecruisers' destruction. The hunk of gutted but still thoroughly dense alloy blew through the Osiris' virtually nonexistent shields and crumpled her hull with a mutual closing velocity in excess of 75 PSL apiece.  
  
"Orders from the Flag, Commodore." A com officer spoke into the deathly silence. "We are to come to course 334 mark 319 and render assistance to a squadron of Promies that have gotten into some heavy resistance."  
  
"Understood." Cavit said after a beat. "Orders to the Squadron, form up and shift course to bearing 334 mark 319."  
  
Vaadwaur Warship 003  
  
Falran disliked how the scabberous looking Terran PPC mounts hastily slapped onto all Vaadwaur ships ruined its otherwise sleek lines. But what he had no argument with was the increase in firepower they gave what remained of the Vaadwaur Fleet. The Terran commander, Admiral Vanguard, had originally proposed dispersing his ships throughout his fleet. He wanted them to act as support craft, using their Flux Waves to make enemy incursions into his rear areas that much easier to take out. But Falran had convinced him that the Vaadwaur ships would be far better off operating in concert with each other rather than trying to integrate them into a navy they had only a passing similarity with. The Vaadwaur were now operating in squadron level groups, stalking about Ulysses wall of battle, hitting targets assigned to them by the Terran commander.  
  
"Pop up target in sector Beta 12." His tactical officer said from his station, indicating that one of the Imperial squadrons hadn't done a proper job and had allowed one of their assigned targets to slip past them.  
  
"Show the Imperials how it's done!" Falran said with a slight smile. Being able to show up the mighty Imperials, even in something as small as taking out a target that had leaked past their front line defenders, was something he relished. The Vaadwaur might be down, but they most certainly were not out.  
  
"Coming up on target now."  
  
"Fire the Flux Wave."  
  
"Firing. NOW!"  
  
On the main viewer, an undulating wave of energy spat outward from his ship. It struck the ISC Cruiser square, sending it into an uncontrolled spiral. It slammed into one of its companions, draining both of their shields considerably. Falran's squadron opened fire, spitting streams of PPC bolts into the ISC's weakened shields. They were not alone in their attack, for five squadrons of Imperial Fighters had converged on the luckless trio of ISC Cruisers as well. Six of the furiously maneuvering fighters were hit, flashing out of existence in the blink of an eye, but the combined firepower of the rest added to Falran's own ships finished off the ISC ships soon thereafter.  
  
ISS Valley Forge, Flag Bridge  
  
"Divert Soulwolf Squadrons Four through Nine to take out those ISC ships." Ulysses spoke as he highlighted the cluster of enemy vessels that were falling back from the frontlines more and more with each passing moment. Early attacks had been largely repulsed, and the ISC were using their superior speed to outdistance most pursuers. If they were allowed to get into PPD range to quickly, he would have no choice but to kick off phase two immediately.  
  
36% of his ships were now combat ineffective. The enemy had over 41% of theirs in the same state, but their fleet had been bigger to begin with. ECCM allowed for fleeting glimpses through the EW haze, and close in attack runs gave infrequent snapshots of the enemy, letting him know that more and more shield power was being diverted forward to reinforce the enemy's defenses as he battered at them without respite. The Forge bucked again, and this time damage alarms chimed above the otherwise near unnatural quiet of the Flag Bridge. Just a little while longer, hold on just a bit more and we can end this. He silently willed his ship and crew.  
  
ISS Valley Forge, Main Bridge  
  
The bridge was darkened slightly, lit more by control consoles and displays and the steady strobe of the Red Alert panels than the overhead lighting fixtures. There was a faint burnt synthetic smell as primary fuses melted into a puddle under an unexpected power surge in the EPS grid.  
  
"Damage Report." P'tel said from her throne in the center of the bridge.  
  
"Slipstream Two took another hit." Gabe Eton said grimly from the deputy tactical station. "The core's offline and most of the section is depressurized and open to space. 100% casualties. Emergency forcefields aren't responding, but section blast doors have deployed. The breach is cut off from the rest of the ship. Port Phaser Lance is gone, that last plasma salvo vaped the entire mount and took a good bite out of our primary hull. We have hull breaches on decks seven through 21 from frame four to frame 25. Most sections near the outer hull within that area are totally gone. 89% casualties within affected sections. PPC Turret Alpha Eight through Alpha 10 are offline. Primary, secondary and tertiary power leads are cut. Dispatching Damage Control teams."  
  
Lt. Sulu had been in the process of swinging the downed shield out of the way, but an ISC warship had fired his weapons at just the right instant to have them catch the edge of the downed shield and eat away at the Valley Forge's armored hide. The fully regenerated and reinforced aft shield arc was now facing the Unity Fleets battle line, and the aft weapons were firing back defiance at them.  
  
"Forward shields are regenerating." Gabe continued. "But there's going to be a large kink in our armor on our dorsal primary hull. Recommend that all future manuvers keep the breach out of direct line of fire if at all possible."  
  
"Understood. Helm, make it so." 


	42. Chapter 39

Chapter 39 - In Death Ground  
  
ISS Valley Forge, Deck Five, near PPC Turret Alpha Eight  
  
A jet of fire retardant foam sprayed out of a nozzle mounted on one of the Engineers synthetic arms, spraying a small flicker of flame into nonexistence. The nozzle folded back out of the way, falling into line with an assortment of various tools. The engineer extended his hands, grasping a hunk of alloy. His artificial muscles that were part of the engineering hard suit he wore strained to lift the collapsed frame member off of a trapped crewman. Basically a scaled down version of infantry power armor minus most of the protection and combat systems, it was used extensively by Starfleet engineers during battle situations, especially for damage control teams. There was a groan of stressed metal as the fractured frame member inched upwards. Another set of mechanical hands gripped the unconscious crewman under his shoulders and pulled, dragging his limp form out from under the collapsed debris. A medical tricorder was waved over him by the team's medic, allowing for a quick diagnosis of the extent of the crewmen's injuries.  
  
"Get him to sickbay. Triage priority Beta." The medic ordered. A pair of marines slipped him onto a gurney, rapidly strapped him in, then each grabbed an end and went jogging off down the hallway towards the nearest sickbay.  
  
The damage control team's supplemental marines, decked out in their power armor suits, were unrolling two power lead coils. They had been spliced into the closest working EPS trunk, and now only needed to be attached into the remains of the grid closest to the PPC Turret. Another Marine followed them in, stringing out a much thinner C&C datalink hard-line. The engineers strode towards the access panel where the connections would have to be made. On of them removed the cover, exposing the scorched, torn tubes beneath. The other surveyed the mess for a few seconds, then came to a decision. Reaching in, he brought out a torn datalink cable about as thick as a man's thumb. A tool folded itself out from its stowed position along his forearm. There was a flash of light as it made contact with the cable above where it was torn, then the torn piece fell away, leaving only a cleanly cut end ready for reconnection. Taking a hold of the fresh datalink cable from the marine, the engineer let what little remained of the coil fall on the ground save for the end he grasped in his other hand.  
  
The other engineer approached with a piece of pliable material that looked like a metallic bandage. The first engineer, using the suit's excellent micro-movement servos, butted the two line segments together near perfectly. The second engineer applied his bandage, then deployed another tool. There was an audible humming and a rapidly strobeing purple light. Quickly, a sizzling sound was heard. The whole process lasted a handful of seconds, then the engineers stepped back. Aside from a slight bulge at the connection, there was very little to tell the difference between it and the rest of the cable.  
  
The Marines manhandled their EPS conduits towards the exposed trunk. Fresh tools deployed from the engineers, sending out arcs of intense white lightening where they met along the connection between the conduits and the dead trunk.  
  
ISS Valley Forge, Main Sickbay  
  
Anna and her staff worked furiously to save the seemingly endless stream of broken bodies that had begun to pile up out into the hallway. Plasma burns, shrapnel wounds, smoke inhalation, crushed and broken bones and all combinations possible by mixing them and varying the degree came across her operating tables. It was truly hell, and something not often shown in the entertainment holos. They all to often showed only sanitized ships destroying other ships, ignoring how beings aboard them died horrible deaths or were severely wounded.  
  
A nurse swept a neuroelectrical suppresser across a wounded man's upper torso. He had third degree plasma burns to his upper torso and a broken arm. His thrashes of pain became low moans as the signals his pain receptors generated stopped going to his brain. She switched tools, pulling out the dermal/muscle regenerator and using it to repair the lion's share of the burn damage.  
  
"Hold her down." Anna's stern command was heard over the cries of the wounded. Her patient was bucking wildly, and there was a large splinter of bulkhead sticking out of her chest. Then the monitoring sensors shifted from irregular pulsing to a steady beep. "Damn it! Seven cc's of leporazine!" There was a soft hiss as the hypo was pressed to the woman's neck. There was no change to the steady beep. "Neural stimulators!" The small, stamp sized tools were stuck on the now still woman's temples. Anna pressed their activation button. A whine was heard, and the body convulsed. But there was no change. Again, Anna pressed the activation button, another whine was heard, and again the body convulsed. This time, the steady beep shifted to something approaching normal. "That's it, fight! Alright, let's get this splinter out and get her patched up before she crashes on us again." She told the surrounding nurses as she moved down the biobed to look closer at the hunk of alloy jutting out of the woman's chest.  
  
ISCV Purity of Heart  
  
Teresa's detached units were nearing nominal PPD range. They had been peppered by the Terran's damnable enhanced torpedoes, some of the lighter ones dying, paying the price so that their brethren could reach range. They had been smart in their manuvers, hiding behind the bulk of her ships of the line, sheltering in the shadow of their potent defenses until they were nearly far enough out. Only then did they shape their course upward, terminating just high enough to gain clear firelanes against the Terrans capital ships. The Soulwolfs and Cobras that had been tailing them virtually since they began their maneuver finally caught up to them, but that was a mixed blessing. For while the Imperials could now engage the ISC vessels with their energy armament, the ISC battle line could also now engage them with their PPD's. More of Teresa's detached units were cut down by the Terran's potent Phaser Lances, but they were all soon dead as the massed aft PPD batteries of her entire Fleet gave voice to their displeasure. Soulwolfs may be quick and heavily armed for an Imperial Destroyer, but their shields and armor were little better than most other Destroyers as a result. Within seconds, they were all glowing wreckage having taken only a handful of the enemy with them. The Cobras faired even worse, for with the Soulwolfs removed from the equation, every phaser and plasma torpedo emplacement the detached units possessed could be trained on their elimination exclusively.  
  
"Fleet Marshal, I believe that we have nailed down the location of their Flagship! They, just as we, are rerouting fleet orders through other ships to prevent their localizing our Flagship." The process sent orders through the short ranged secure datalink to nearby ships, using their com systems to transmit rather than the flagship's own, decreasing the likelihood of the enemy deducing which ship was the enemy Flagship and executing a decapitation strike against it. But given time and a little luck, the enemy might deduce where the center of the near random pattern was and get an approximate location as too one's Flagship. "CIC thinks that they have localized the enemy's flagship in sector 24 grid 13."  
  
Teresa dour face switched to a wolfishly. "Got you now you sneaky bastard." She whispered, then spoke loud and clear. "Flag to detached units. Engage the Terrans with PPD's. Fireplan Unity Alpha on sector 24 grid 13."  
  
ISS Valley Forge, Flag Bridge  
  
Now. Ulysses thought as his final units pursuing the detached ISC units were cut down. "All ships! Execute Phase Two! Repeat, execute Phase Two." His words were drowned out by the sounds of tortured alloy as the first PPD wave slammed into his command.  
  
ISS Vigilance  
  
Suzette could only scowl at the tactical plot in consternation as her ships flew farther and farther away from the titanic battle burning space at Point Invictus. They were totally ignored now, as the Unity Fleet was fully engaged with Ulysses smaller wall of battle. All her firepower was forced to sit and wait, not contributing to the battle, not aiding their comrades as they were slowly picked off one by one. It was maddening, being ordered to do nothing. Her hands gripped the upholstery of her command chair's armrests like talons. The ISC ships that had fallen back from the main battle lines slowed. On her tactical plot, they showed a deadly hail of weapons fire blot out their pursuing fighters even as long ranged PPD fire claimed the Soulwolfs.  
  
"All ships! Execute Phase Two! Repeat, e." the Flag Bridge's speakers blared to life, shattering the tension filled silence that had settled on it and jerking the crew into action. They had been ordered to act immediately, not to wait for Suzette to repeat the command.  
  
Holocloaks dropped, showing her ships for what they truly were, Steamrunners and Nebulas of Imperial Starfleet. Ulysses had thinned his fire support squadrons to dangerous levels in order to put them into the Vigilance Taskforce, but now that calculated risk was going to pay him back in spades. The Taskforce stopped its motion towards the corridor loci and swung about as if directed by one mind. All torpedo tubes went into continuous rapid fire, birthing tsunami after tsunami of enhanced quantums that began to home in on the enemy from far beyond normal torpedo range. Steamrunners might be potent fire support platforms, but they didn't hold a candle to a standard configuration Nebula.  
  
Each of the Taskforce's 21 Nebulas including the Vigilance spat 51 quantums from their tubes in both their massive saucer and their attached weapons pod. The 26 Steamrunners spat out 32 apiece from their quad tubes. Over 1900 torpedoes were vomited into space. Three seconds later, another salvo, equally as dense, followed. Three seconds after that, a third was born.and unlike those used by the rest of Ulysses Fleet, these were implementing the upgraded torpedoes full capabilities.  
  
ISCV Purity of Heart  
  
"Fleet Marshal, the Imperial merchant ves."  
  
"I see them." Teresa said with a scowl. What the devil were they doing? As she watched, the now maneuvering merchantmen transformed into Imperial warships. What were they doing there, what possible advantage could they have by sneaking past her fleet and dropping their masks now? They must have been responsible for deploying the mine field she had stumbled into, that much was quite evident. But WHY would they choose now to show their true nature? It couldn't be to launch weapons, for they were far to far away for that. So what could it be?  
  
"Dispatch Superdreadnought Battlegroup 31 to take them out if they fail to retreat or surrender. And send a recon drone to scout them out. Something doesn't feel right about this."  
  
On her tactical plot, her detached units continued their merciless pounding of the Terran BB's and SD's in the general location where the enemy flagship should be. If it wasn't already out of action, it soon would be. And then, the rest of the Terran fleet would undergo the same systematic pounding that was right now being reserved to a handful of its fellows. Soon, this battle would end, and the sector would come fully into the peace of the Galactic Unity.  
  
Oddly, all Imperial vessels operating in the rear of her formation suddenly broke away to the periphery, disengaging from attack runs and accelerating hard to beyond the edge of her wall. Now what were the Terrans up to? A brief flicker on the tactical plot caught her attention. Her eyes narrowed. The flicker returned, looking like a massive swarm of sparks dancing where nothing should be. "What the hell.." The recon drone she had sent aft to scope out the Imperial fire support ships was nearing the cloud. Suddenly, it blossomed into thousands of targets. With a scowl, she zoomed the tactical plot in closer. The targets were small, only about the size of a. TORPEDO! The thought hit her at the same time that the enhanced quantums brought their shields online. Teresa's eyes bulged.  
  
"All units, emergency shield reinforcement aft!"  
  
Prescott's Star  
  
The enhanced quantums, all but invisible at long range thanks to their small signatures and lack of active shields, suddenly showed themselves as they brought their shield grids up. They numbered in the thousands, and they crashed down on the weakened Unity fleet's aft arcs like the waves of an incoming tide. Teresa had just issued her order when the first deadly volley struck. Weakened shields were saturated to the breaking point, armor boiled away exposing the weaker superstructure beneath to damage. Whole squadrons of ISC Superdreadnoughts and Battleships were knocked out of the fight, but the destruction didn't end, for scant seconds aft the first wave hit, the next one struck, wreaking the same havoc. And still more appeared on tactical plots as the enhanced quantums brought their shield grids online, a seeming endless flood of them.  
  
ISCV Purity of Heart  
  
Teresa lurched forward, nearly thrown out of her chair. Lighting flickered throughout the Flag Bridge, and the tactical display nearly died before snapping back on. The picture it showed wasn't good. Nearly 78% of her ships were down, and the number was growing with every passing moment. Her choices flashed through her head. She couldn't retreat, for that would expose her to fire from both directions and in her weakened state her ships couldn't survive it. Neither could she stay and continue to fight. She could hurt the Terrans more before she died, but at the rate she was loosing ships she could only hurt them a bit more. There was only one possible course open to her, distasteful as it was.  
  
"Signal all ships, stand down and surrender. Open a channel to the Terran Fleet. We surrender! Cease fire. We surrender!"  
  
"Fleet marshal?" An aide said, his expression stunned and his voice shocked.  
  
"You heard me damn you! Do it now, before more die needlessly!" And pray that the Terran commander chooses to give us quarter, she thought. 


	43. Chapter 40

Chapter 40 - In Death Ground  
  
Prescott's Star  
  
Plasmatic Pulsar Device fire smashed down on Ulysses wall, concentrated on the section that held the Valley Forge. Incandescent boils of light vomited into the velvet blackness of space, their fury made all the more terrible by the silence of the void. The plasma waves washed over the stupendous warships of Ulysses battle line, flailing against shields and armor. The ablative armor spent itself in a vain fight to save the ships it guarded, boiling away in a wave of hard radiation and vaporized atoms. ISS Heidon was bracketed by five PPD's, her hull disappearing from view as the plasma waves liberated themselves against her weakened shields and riddled armor in the a star bright cauldron of white light. Seconds later, her internal ammo stores and slipstream cores were breached, unleashing an even brighter flash of light as the molten remnants of her hull exploded outward trailing flame.  
  
ISS Kraken, the lone remaining original capital ship from the Valley Forge Battlegroup aside from the Flagship herself, was also under concentrated attack. PPD's slashed away the last remnants of her shields and dug deep into her armored hide. Wreathed in fire, weapons systems blotted away, her captain gave the order to abandon ship. Sensors were near totally gone, but they saw enough to show that the Flagship was being pounded nearly as mercilessly as the Kraken was. There wasn't even a shadow of hesitation as the Kraken's CO as she darted across the shattered, smoke filled ruin of her bridge to the helm. The Skipper wouldn't die today, not as long as she could stop it. Through fortuitous act of fate, her Borg STL drive was still functioning at 12% efficiency and accepted orders through the mangled control leads that ran from the bridge helm console.  
  
The debris streaming, splintered and cratered hulk that had once been a proud warship lumbered into motion. Fire trailed from her gaping wounds, and she was little more than a half molten mass of alloy so extensive was her damage. But her still functioning drives pushed her onto the course her captain wanted. Shedding escape pods and shuttles, she drifted towards the wounded Valley Forge, interposing herself into the PPD's line of fire. Her valiant self sacrifice was not in vain, for it saved the Valley Forge from a fiery death.  
  
The PPD's destruction of the Valley Forge was abruptly cut short, leaving her grievously wounded hull glowing white hot with the ship powerless and adrift. Instead of finishing off the 401st Flagship, they killed her squadron mate instead. The Kraken had positioned herself just right to interdict the incoming fire, and her own mangled hull absorbed it to the breaking point. In a flash of immensely intense but highly localized energy release, her slipstream cores let loose, largely vaporizing her hull and sending a lone flaming nacelle corkscrewing outward. Then all at once, the PPD fire stopped. Even phaser and plasma torpedo fire from the Unity battle line ceased as well, in spite of the fact that they were still being pounded by wave after wave of phaser strikes and enhanced quantum torpedoes.  
  
ISS Anasazi  
  
All contact with the Valley Forge had been lost, which was perfectly understandable given the extent of her damage. And since Admiral Vanguard was out of communication or worse, command of the 401st devolved to Brevet Rear Admiral Vivian DaGaule. CIC had confirmed that quite a few of them were from the original attack force. Something primal deep inside Vivian growled with glee to be giving them something back for the murderous casualties they had piled against the forts under her command in the first go-around. Now that the other jaw of the Skipper's trap had been sprung, the bastards were well and truly mouse trapped. They couldn't run, and they couldn't hide. All they could do was die. And Vivian took savage satisfaction in that. The ghosts of First Prescott's Star would be avenged. The enemy would be burned from the stars, the only possible response for attacking the Empire and killing her citizens.  
  
"Admiral!" A com officer half-shouted to get her attention.  
  
Her eyes deviated from their position as she stared hatefully at the Unity battle line that had claimed far too many Imperials. "What is it."  
  
"The enemy commander is requesting parley to offer terms for her surrender!"  
  
We have the upper hand and she wants us to surrender? She thought. Then the com officer's actual words hit her. No, wait. SHE wants to surrender! An animalistic snarl contorted her face into a hate filled ghost of its former self. She nearly ordered the offer to be ignored and offensive fire redoubled as her hate boiled upward, but she squelched it through sheer force of will. It wasn't what the Skipper would have wanted, and it would save many Imperial lives to bring the battle to a rapid close. Her personal feelings would have to be ignored.  
  
"Open the channel." She ground out even as her holodisplay showed the enemy ships halting their weapons fire. The com window blossomed unobtrusively above the combatants even as the smaller Imperial battle line continued to fire and the Vigilance Taskforce continued to launch quantums. The Terran CO of the Galactic Unity Fleet opened her mouth to speak, but was cut off by Vivian's raised palm. "You will not maneuver an inch from your current positions, you will power down all weapons and shields and surrender your ships intact and with no resistance to my boarding parties, or so help me I will keep right on grinding you into atoms. Choose now." The officers on the flag bridge seemed to hold their collective breath.  
  
The face on the other end of the com window looked like it had bit into something sour, but after half a beat, there was a nod of agreement.  
  
"Orders to the Fleet." Vivian spoke instantly. "All ships will cease fire and hold position while the enemy stands down for boarding." A victorious roar went up from the Flag Bridge crew, echoed throughout the Imperial Fleet. Ships stopped firing, but their weapons systems were primed for instant resumption should the Unity fleet try anything fishy. Space rippled with blue white flashes aft of the Unity formation as the quantums filling space between it and the Vigilance Taskforce were remotely detonated. Vivian returned her attention to the Unity Fleet Marshal. "My ships have suspended their fire. Shut down your shields, engines and weapons systems and prepare to be boarded."  
  
ISS Valley Forge. Main Bridge  
  
P'tel clung to her chair grimly as the Forge bucked and writhed under the Unity's assault. Main power failed, cutting out for a split second and dimming the bridge's lights. Then the emergency backups kicked in, feeding fresh power to the Valley Forge's nerve center. Then the assault stopped, leaving the 401st Flagship in peace. Crimson damage indicators painted themselves across the Forge's status display.  
  
"Damage control to the Flag Bridge, Medics to the Flag Bridge." Her even voice commanded, even though she felt a pang of fear pierce her shield of non-emotion. She forced it away, there was nothing more she could do  
  
ISS Valley Forge, Flag Bridge  
  
Billowing layers of smoke filled the Flag Bridge, reducing visibility to a few feet in any direction. Small fires burned here and there, casting their orange glow through the shrouding smoke. The piercing wail of damage alarms melded with the arcing fizz of spark spewing electronics and the groan of overstressed alloy. Emergency lighting, pale beside the normal shipboard lighting setting Ulysses favored, cast cones of brightness on the Flag Bridge's exits and primary egress routes. Displays were either totally dead or filled with crazy, multicolored squiggles and dancing snow white dots of light. Commissar Stevens and more than one other crewman, their forms hidden by the smoke, began coughing on the choking, acrid smoke. Grabbing her facemask more by feel than by actual sight, Jessica slipped it over her head, purged it, and then took in a precious breath of sweet, fresh air.  
  
Emerging like a phantom out of the smoke came a hulking, seven foot tall shape clad in power armor. Surprisingly delicate mechanical hands touched her shoulders. "Are you all right Commissar?"  
  
"Yes, I'm fine, just a little shaken up is all."  
  
"Good. Ma'am, I need you to get the others out of here." He said with a jerk of his head, barely discernable through the dark tint of his helmet's relatively small forward view port. Medical teams and damage control are on the way, but it's faster to take the walking wounded out to meet them. Can you do this Ma'am?" Although it was phrased as a request, the Marine Sergeant made is sound like an order. Jessica merely nodded, her usual armor and demeanor changed by what must be shock. She began to walk towards the port side pit, intent on doing just what the Marine told her to do. She had to pick her way carefully, for there was splintered and broken hull segments strewn across the Flag Bridge.  
  
The Marine watched her walk off for a moment, the enhanced vision his suit provided him allowing him to follow her in spite of the smoke. Then once he was satisfied that she was actually following his directives, he turned and strode towards the Skipper's chair. Bunches of multicolored cables hung like jungle vines from the wrecked roof, and the chair was lying at a strange angle with the broken remains of a deck support lodged in the floor against it. It was a miracle it hadn't crushed Ulysses as it fell. At least the Skippers biosigns are strong. The Marine thought as he slipped a breathing mask over the evidently unconscious Admiral Vanguard's head. The main door swooshed open behind him and on his helmet's display, he watched the first of the Flag Bridge crew stagger out into the relative safety of the hallway. The Damage Control teams and Medics trotted past them in the doorway.  
  
Ulysses eye fluttered open as the power-armored Marine slipped a breathing mask over his head. "Easy Sir. The Medics are here now. Let them look you over first."  
  
Ulysses nodded, greedily gulping down the fresh air. One of the medics swept her tricorder over him. "Minor smoke inhalation. Other than that you're in perfect health Admiral."  
  
"Then how about we get this" Ulysses said with a gesture to the beam pinning him to his seat, "out of the way, shall we?" Ulysses voice was muffled by the full face mask, but that in no way muffled the quiet snap of command in his voice.  
  
"Aye Sir, we'll have you free momentarily." One of the Damage Control team's engineers replied. Orders were issued, and most of the team went to the far side and gripped the collapsed beam. Synthetic muscles strained, and with a metallic groan the collapsed beam shifted away inch by grudging inch. Ulysses slid carefully out of his canted chair, edging around the shifted beam.  
  
"Thank you. See to the others, I need to find a working com system." The Damage Control team acknowledged his orders, and Ulysses nodded, then spun on his heel to stride through the smoke to the main door.  
  
ISS Valley Forge, Main Sickbay, One hour later  
  
Ulysses walked amongst the biobed's filled with wounded, giving and encouraging word and a smile to the battered Imperials. Sickbay lighting was muted to allow the injured crew to rest, and the virtually exhausted medical staff was also sprawled wherever they could find room, oftentimes near passed out in corners or against walls. In spite of the atmospheric systems best efforts, the stench of burned flesh and hair mingled with the metallic tang of blood still hung in the sickbay like an ill wind. Many of the Forge's crew in sickbay were short fingers or arms or legs. Others had large portions of their faces disfigured, their wounds covered over by regenerated skin tissue yet unable to hide their lost eyes or ears. The injured, however battered and maimed seemed to take heart from Ulysses mere presence, almost in awe that one as exalted as he would stoop to visit the wounded in sickbay. Even the Imp-drones, perhaps taking their cue from their normal crewmates, seemed to relax.  
  
And the Imperials were not alone in the sickbay, for even as grievously wounded as she was, the Valley Forge had taken on Galactic Unity survivors. Many had been in just as dire need of medical aid as Imperial personnel, and the GU's surviving sickbays had been hard pressed to shoulder all of their wounded. Ulysses had ordered that they be brought aboard Imperial vessels and triaged in the same way Imperials were. Some had argued vehemently, Commissar Stevens among them, that Imperials should be treated first no matter the extent of the GU survivors' injuries. Ulysses and firmly shot down that suggestion. Medical aid would not be withheld from those who required it merely because they were aliens.  
  
Having nearly finished making the rounds in sickbay, Ulysses heard a commotion behind him. Turning, he saw Anna blocking the path of two hulking Section 31 goons.  
  
"Is there a problem here?" Ulysses said in a stern tone, cutting off Anna's heated reply.  
  
The muscle bound brutes swiveled their heads to look at him as if with one mind. Both had matching snarls on their faces at yet another Starfleeter poking his nose in their business. That was, until they saw just who they were being addressed by. Starfleeter or no, Ulysses had been issued the Lion of Terra by the Emperor himself. As such, he deserved some amount of respect. Both lost their snarls and straightened their posture to something approaching attention. "We are here for prisoner interrogation."  
  
Anna inhaled to bark at them, but Ulysses cut her off before she could with a raised hand. "You may interrogate these prisoners after they are released from medical care and not a moment before."  
  
"We have our orders sir." The one that had spoken before, a Lt. by his rank pips, ground out.  
  
"And I am countermanding them Lieutenant. These POWs will be made available for questioning once they are healthy as per Starfleet General Directives on the treatment of POWs." Those who had made the directives had been more concerned with ensuring that POWs survived their initial interrogation to be further interrogated later rather than for their own piece of mind, but Ulysses was perfectly willing to use them that way. He would sleep easier at night knowing that he had done his level best to at least slow down the torture some of the GU personnel would endure. It was yet another thing to add to the list of complaints that would eventually be rectified when change finally came to the Terran Empire. But till that day, Ulysses could only push things as far as the letter of the law let him. The fact that it would stick in Section's craw was merely gravy.  
  
The Section goons knew they were beaten. Casting a deadly glare at both Ulysses and Anna, they spun on their heel and stalked angrily down the debris strewn hallway.  
  
"Thank you Uly, if you weren't here, I'm certain I would have had to call security to get them to leave, and that would have created a minor incident I'm quite happy was avoided." Anna said, pitching her voice low so that only he could hear.  
  
"Think nothing of it Anna." He replied with a dismissive wave of his hand. "If Section is too cocky to follow established guidelines, I'm more than happy to tweak their noses over it."  
  
"Just the same, thank you." Anna said touching his upper arm. Gratitude sparkled in her eyes, and just perhaps something else as well.  
  
Seeing an opening, Ulysses took it. Despite his eagerness, he was easily as afraid as he had been during the build up to the battle. Clearing his throat he continued. "Would you like to have dinner with me tonight?" He forced his voice not to break and to meter his words rather than spit them out in a burst.  
  
Anna smiled broadly. "I do believe I would at that." Ulysses exhaled a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding, and a matching grin blossomed on his own face and his lone eye twinkled with delight. "'Bout time you asked me to. I've just been dropping signals since forever." Ulysses face reddened noticeably, but the Cheshire grin remained.  
  
"6:30 sound alright?"  
  
"Baring any emergency, yes 6:30 sounds just fine."  
  
"Good. Well, in that case doctor, I'll leave you to your duties." With a final nod, Ulysses turned and walked out into the hallway, the grin plastered on his face mirroring the joy in his soul. 


	44. Chapter 41

Chapter 41 - Strange Bedfellows  
  
Imperial Palace, Moscow, Terra  
  
"But your majesty, such a proposal." One of Jack's inner circle of bureau heads began only to be cut off.  
  
"You will cease your whining willingly and immediately, Mr. Valtaine, or I will compel your silence through more forceful means." Emperor Chambers ground out, his voice cold as ice. "I have made my decision, and it is the course of action the Empire will take. Am I completely clear?"  
  
Custer Valtaine, in charge of industry, closed his mouth with a snap, turning pale as fear forced blood from his face. He nodded nervously, his eyes darting up and down the table. None of the other bureau chiefs said a word and kept their gazes elsewhere, trying to be as inconspicuous as possible lest they draw the Emperors ire down on their own shoulders. All save Cherice Paxton, bureau chief of Internal Security and Public Information. Her oval face, framed in straight, orange/red locks was turned directly towards his. Her cold blue eyes were looking intently at his own, with a devilish smile picking up the corners of her mouth. Her expression caused him to blanch even more, for he knew full well that with a mere word from the Emperor she would execute him here and now.  
  
"What was that Mr. Valtaine? I couldn't hear you."  
  
"Yes sir, crystal clear."  
  
"Good. Dispatch the proposition to the GA governments. Many of them have already been attacked by the GU. They should be as eager for a temporary suspension of active hostilities as we are." Jack said, his voice loosing some of its dangerous edge, but not all. It was never truly normal since he learned that his daughter was lost and in enemy hands somewhere, possibly even dead. "The GU is the primary threat, to all of us. They are intelligent enough to see this as clearly as we can. At the very least, even a partial cease fire will allow us to shift some of our fleets currently guarding against the GA to face the new threat Unity poses. And once the GU are dealt with, we will be free to resume unimpeded offensive operations against the GA powers. But only afterward." The Emperor stressed the last word. Hell, he thought, if Ben Sisko can make the Cardies stop fighting us, even for just a few days, a general ceasefire with all the GA powers isn't beyond the realm of possibility. And even if they do not accept, there is no harm in making the offer so long as it's done covertly with no public foreknowledge. Hell, the public doesn't even have to know at all, especially after we have been so effective whipping them into a frenzy against the GA powers. And once the GU is out of the way, I can deal with the GA and those traitorous bastards in the Orion Cartel. Pain clouded his eyes, but the flames of hatred near totally obscured it, overpowering it, using it as more fuel to fan the raging furnace in his soul higher, threatening to consume him. Only the faint glimmer of hope that his daughter might yet be found alive kept it at bay. They'll pay! For the pain they have caused me and mine, they'll damn well pay!!  
  
ISCV Unity, Gamma/Alpha Quadrant boarder coreward  
  
Peter O'tole forced his face into his carefully practiced mask of non- expression as he strode down the massive starship's proportionally massive corridors. He was surrounded by Pronhoulite and Korlivilar marines clad in spotless sky blue and white with gold trim power armor. But it was no less functional for all its immaculateness. They were his escort for the duration of his stay on the Galactic Unity's Flagship, there to ensure that he didn't do anything he wasn't supposed to. Not that he was stupid enough to attempt such a thing here deep in GU held space aboard their conquest fleet's. check that. their "Pacification Fleet's", Peter gave an mental roll-eyes as he shifted his thoughts to the ISC's designation, Flagship.  
  
He still didn't know why his ISC benefactors had insisted that he come here, well into GU held space. All his previous dealings save his initial contact with the ISC had been via long ranged scrambled and encrypted com. The change, and the fact that it was the GU's Flagship he'd been ordered, was more than slightly unsettling.  
  
The hallways were made of dark gray alloys and an obsidian black substance that felt like polished stone. Purple hued lighting shone down from the roof mounted fixtures, banishing any shadows that would otherwise inhabit the Unity's cavernous corridors. Their unnaturally large size also contributed to Peter's unease, making him feel like a Lilliputian from the Terran myth. But these corridors large size was perfectly functional, for as Peter and his entourage strode through a junction, a very tall Meskeen could be seen down it. He was conversing with a Terran."Human" he corrected himself with a mental sigh, and a Rovillian. With big brutes like that elder Meskeen roaming the GU's Flagship, he could easily see why they had settled on such unnaturally large corridors and rooms. It didn't make him feel much better, but at least his mind had an obvious reason for the need for massive corridors, even if it still couldn't accept them into his view of what was proper for a warship. Of course, on any ship designed to standard humanoid specifications, the elder Meskeen would be incapable of maneuvering through them without the aid of site to site transporters. He nearly snorted out loud in laughter as his mind produced the mental picture of one of the green skinned amphibians stuffed into a standard sized hallway like it was a Gentonian sausage casing.  
  
One of his Terran lynx-like Korlivilar guards, perhaps slightly superior in esper ranking to the rest, or slightly less willing to swallow her feelings, half hissed. Her tufted ears folded down tight to head as it turned toward him, grass green felinoid eyes boring into him. Peter gave himself a mental kick even as he reinforced his anti-esper barriers, managing somehow not to break stride. This was no time to let his mental shields slip. Nearly every being on the ship, aside from the Dominion contingent that is, were espers of some level or other. He had a gut feeling that this was a critical juncture. It wouldn't do to mess it up because he slipped up on such a small thing as making a careless mental joke about one of the ISC's oldest and most powerful races. Fortunately for him, the Korlivilar took no further action, but Peter could almost sense the non-verbal interplay that his guards engaged in. The Korlivilar was using telepathy to inform the rest of his guards of whatever she had been able to pick up, he was certain of it. But none of the others took any overt action either, and Peter let out a mental sigh of relief behind his barriers.  
  
The corridor continued on till it terminated in a set of massive doors, each intricately worked with a bass relief in bronze. The relief appeared to show a battle of some sort, with ranks of ISC member races in opposition to another group of aliens. But the other group was nebulous, their features absent. And the things the relief showed them doing to the ISC they had captured were. disturbing. But Peter only had a scant few seconds to study the artwork before the doors' swung open archaically to admit him and his escorts.  
  
--- --- ---  
  
Supreme Overlord Brakiel moved his massive bulk back and forth, pacing another useful habit he had acquired from the Humans, as he mulled over the distasteful choice he had been ordered to make. The Council of Five wisely only rarely interfered in actual Peace Forces operations after ordering them to action. But they had chosen to interfere now. And their order, however unpalatable he found it personally, was one he had no choice but to implement. The Council of Five's word was law, and if they told him to do something he found repulsive, he would execute their orders without question or comment. He let loose a slightly honking sigh.  
  
"Come now Supreme Overlord," The female Founder's wry, slightly gravely voice said from her position near where he paced in the center of the room, "Although it is sometimes bothersome to use tools as low and base as this one, they can prove to be of some use from time to time."  
  
Brakiel sighed again, but had to nod his assent. "I know, but that doesn't mean I have to like using them."  
  
The massive doors swung open and he turned to watch the approaching procession with trepidation, for it was his lot to serve the Council of Five's wishes.  
  
--- --- ---  
  
Peter passed through the archaic swinging doors and into the presence of the largest Meskeen his limited experience had ever shown him. He stopped himself from doing a double take and forced his feet to continue their measured stride. The Meskeen was a titan, likely near six meters high, towering over him by a decidedly imposing amount. His faintly glistening green amphibian skin was backlit by the glowing green, purple, gold and silver displays that made up the walls of the otherwise Spartan chamber. The only other being present in the room was a female Changeling, but she was staying back, present but not an active participant of what was to come.  
  
"Peter O'tole of the Orion Cartel," The ancient Meskeen began in his deep, resonating if slightly nasal voice, "I am Pacification Fleet Prime Supreme Overlord Brakiel. You are no doubt wondering as to why you have been called here for a face to face meeting with me rather than your customary handlers." He stared intently at Peter, his space black eyes boring into him from their frog like bumps on either side of his head. "The Council of Five, the political leaders of the ISC, have fresh orders for you."  
  
Here it was, the moment of truth. "What might they be Supreme Overlord?"  
  
"Your vessels are to report to the following rally points," Brakiel said, holding a PADD out to Peter, "where they will join up with Galactic Unity Fleet elements for offensive action against the Terran Empire and Grand Alliance forces."  
  
The Orion's eyes went round as saucers. He had worked a lifetime to hide his true feelings from others, but even his extensive experience was insufficient to steel his expression to neutrality. Stark shock, far beyond simple surprise, was easily seen on his face. "You want my Pirates to join you in true offensive operations against heavy naval warships? Have you lost your mind? They're no warships, their raiders at best, relying on superior numbers and surprise to take down weak convoy escorts. You can't seriously expect them to take on an actual enemy fleet formation can you?!?"  
  
"I'm sure that an appropriate use that best plays to their advantages can be found for them. In the mean time, I expect them to arrive within the month at the assigned rally points. All of them, for we know exactly how many you have." The slightly nasal voice resonated within Peter's very bones, with a definite snap of command born from long experience. "And should you decline to cooperate, there are certain parties that would take much delight in the information we have on you and your operations..." The massive amphibian's voice trailed off, allowing Peter to draw his own conclusions as to who those parties might be.  
  
Peter's mouth closed with a click and his lips curled back into a snarl. "You bastard! If I give you all of my fleet, I'll be ruined. Section 31 is nipping at my heels as it is, searching for the Emperor's daughter that I handed off to YOU people. Starfleet has managed to scrape together stronger forces for patrols and given the Emperor's directive against my line of work, bribing them is becoming increasingly more difficult, to say nothing of the other means of getting my way. Hell, even the other cartels are threatening to re-stake their claims to space that's MINE! And you want me to pull all of my active duty ships to aid you?"  
  
"Think for a moment just who gave you all those ships, all the power you currently possess and covet." Brakiel's voice was deadly calm. "We made you what you are in order to serve our wishes. You seem to have forgotten that. You have two choices. You can bring your fleet to the rally points before the end of the month, or you can ignore our orders. The choice is yours to make, but you really do not want the Galactic Unity as your enemy. not knowing what we know of your operations. That is all Peter O'tole, return to your den of criminals and decide."  
  
Peter snarled, coiling to strike out, his brain awash in hate and terror. All that he had worked so hard to gain, everything, was slipping away from him like so much sand spilling out from between his fingers. The thought terrified him, that he would wind up back in the gutter where he had started from. It also angered him, throwing him into a blind rage against those that would dare use him so. His hate burned away caution, burned away rational thought, feeding off of his fear to make itself that much stronger. But even before he could move, the security detail was on him.  
  
The saurian Pronhoulites were already in motion before he even did more than twitch. Their 'combat intuition', a sense that was on the borderline of precognition, told them almost exactly what Peter would do. Powerful mechanical arms wrapped around Peter, holding him tight, letting him do no more than squirm impotently.  
  
"Take the animal back to his ship." Brakiel said over the incoherent ravings of Peter. "And remember my promise, Mr. O'tole. You know the consequences of choosing not to aid us after we have done so much for you." 


	45. Chapter 42

Chapter 42 - Strange Bedfellows  
  
IKV Bortas, Klach D'Kel Brakt system  
  
White sparks cascaded down like a waterfall of light from a ruptured conduit on the bridge's roof. The Bortas shook again as a fresh volley of plasma torpedoes struck his drained shields. The main bridge was a cacophony of noise and a flurry of activity as Luza's finely tuned command crew fought their ship.  
  
"Message from the Flag, Captain." Luza's com officer belted out over the blaring klaxons and battle damage noises. "The ISC Battleship Five is weakening and he is ordering us to finish it off."  
  
All this over a worthless system in the back of beyond. Luza thought, for the skirmish against Galactic Unity forces was about as far away from Qo'noS as one could get in the reborn Klingon Empire. On the Bridge's wrap around displays a force of about a dozen Vor'cha's and their escorts were in a furious firefight against a mixed force of ISC and Dominion vessels. The Klingon forces were little better than a very light Taskforce, with nothing heavier than the Vor'cha Battlecruisers. Fortunately, the ISC considered this system just as much of a backwater as the Klingons did. They had only sent a lone squadron of Battleships and their escorts. Under normal circumstances, this would have been more than sufficient to either burn the Vor'cha's and their escorts from space should they choose to stand, or force them to withdraw if they wouldn't.  
  
But fortunately for citizens of the Klach D'Kel Brakt system, the Klingon High Command had dispatched Luza's squadron of Vampire's here, escorting a titanic mobile smelter that was supposed to break down the system's mineral rich asteroid belt into vitally needed supplies for the shipyards near Qo'noS. Replicators could reconstitute nearly anything into virtually anything one needed. But for certain elements and compounds, it was more efficient energy and time wise to harvest them the old fashioned way by taking them directly from their natural sources. Luza's squadron's presence tilted the odds ever so slightly in the system defender's favor.  
  
But even that would have been insufficient to stop the Galactic Union forces given the extended range of their PPD and their STL speed advantage. But the mobile smelter's Captain had volunteered to act as bait to lure the GU forces in close enough that they could be targeted by the Klingon's shorter ranged weapons. It was a truly selfless act, one worthy of song, for if the battle failed to pan out in the Klingon's favor, the smelter's captain would go down with his ship rather than surrender it to the GU. With the mammoth smelter presenting a near impossibly fat target, the GU forces had set off after it and the EW drones operating in concert with it. With them pretending to be the smelter's escorting warships, the GU had closed steadily, unaware that the real warships were lying doggo under their passive stealth systems nearly directly in their path.  
  
The initial strikes had hammered the GU Battleships hard, the Klingon vessels erupting into action from their hidden positions with guns blazing. They had even managed to get in under the GU's PPD minimum range, and although the potent phasers and plasma torpedo batteries the ISC ships housed spat back answering volleys of their own, two were quickly cut down to size by the Vampire's Maulers. After that, the two opposing formations actually interpenetrated one another and combat devolved into a swirling melee of frantically maneuvering capital ships as precise fleet formation became a detriment rather than an asset.  
  
"Gunnery, target Battleship Five." Luza ordered. "Order the Kirom and the Sompek to attack as well on their next passes." As she finished, her command shuddered again as a fresh volley of phased polaron beams slammed into his shields as the Jem'Hadar attack craft struggled to down her weakening shields. With a final torrent of emerald bolts, the Bortas broke off pursuit of the now expanding cloud of wreckage that had once been a Jem'Hadar attack craft to begin a run against the Battleship. Or rather the quartet of Battleships, as the ISC warship had deployed three EW drones and all were swarming in helix patterns around their base course.  
  
Streams of brilliant green splinters of energy spat from their emplacements, connecting with the false signatures as well as the actual Battleship. The EW drones faked battle damage quite well, but the range was far to short for the deception to fool Luza's sensors. Bortas' CIC near instantly sent targeting updates to the rest of the Klingon ships, letting them know which ship was the true target.  
  
Phaser and polaron beams cris-crossed with disruptors on the forward viewer, creating a cacophony of visual stimuli, but Luza tuned it all out. Her attention was focused on the soon to be dead Battleship. He was maneuvering with ever erg of impulse speed he could get. As maneuverable as Klingon designs were, the ISC Battleship was noticeably fleeter on the helm than something his size had any right to be.  
  
"Mauler charged!" Her weapons officer shouted across the orange hued bridge  
  
"Fire!" Luza replied at once, her upraised, leather gloved fist closing tightly.  
  
A lance of silver appeared between her command and her target. It blew threw the Battleship's weakened aft shields and bulled forcefully through the hull to explode out the other side. Even as he began to spiral away from the point of attack, a fresh assault clobbered him from his ventral side as the Kirom and the Sompek opened up with shimmering silver swords of their own, wreaking vengeance down on the GU for daring to attack a Klingon world. What had once been a proud ISC Battleship shattered as secondary explosions consumed what little remained of her hull in brilliant white hot fireballs.  
  
"Captain!" a shocked cry came from across Bortas' bridge, causing Luza's head to snap towards her gunnery officer. "Sensors show another Galactic Unity force dropping out of warp! They will be in PPD range of our position in eighty seconds!"  
  
"Bearing and strength!" Luza snapped.  
  
"186 mark 124. A minimum of one wing of Superdreadnoughts and approximately two dozen lesser vessels as escort."  
  
The bridge went deathly quiet as the new enemy formation size was announced.  
  
"Open a channel to the Flag." Luza ground out.  
  
"Channel open." Her com officer replied quietly.  
  
"Sir, we must withdraw."  
  
The voice on the other end of the com let loose a stream of colorful curses. "Agreed." Luza finally heard his growling voice snarl back. For a heart wrenching moment, she had worried that his warrior heart might have overcome his common sense and reason. "General order to all ships, fall back to the rally point in the Balduk system." At least all the Klingon ships were light enough to outrun the mass of alloy rushing up behind them. Even the mobile smelter was far enough away that it would shortly exit its nearest warp field inhibitors area of effect. Although the loss of Klach D'Kel Brakt would hurt, it was after all a relatively worthless system in a strategic sense, and the only recently resettled Klingon population had survived for virtually their entire lives under Terran boot heels. They could survive being occupied by forces of the Galactic Unity until sufficient forces could be scraped together to force whatever picketing force the GU left behind out again.  
  
The cost of the system's now failed defense had also been light, especially if one took into account the tonnage they took away from the enemy even though they took the system. The outright destruction of three ISC Battleships easily outweighed the three destroyed Vor'chas, five vaporized Chava'kals and the plethora of minor and serious wounds the ships on both sides had received. Forming up into their squadron level formations, the Klingon ships accelerated away from the remaining two Battleships, both crippled and in need of extensive repair work before they would be ready to fight again. Fortunately, none of the lighter escorts still alive mounted PPD's, and those on the surviving ISC Battleships had been to heavily damaged to be useable. It was that which allowed the Klingons to withdraw so easily.  
  
Some Jem'Hadar and ISC Destroyers left their posts guarding the Battleships to pursue the Klingons in a vain attempt to slow them down. They were easily discouraged by the Vor'chas aft weapons batteries and by selective assault by the operational members of Luza's squadron. Her Vampires cut their impulse engines, coasting onward on momentum alone and using their bow and stern thrusters to bull themselves end for end. Now flying at slightly over full impulse tail first, their heavy forward weapons arc was again exposed to the enemy. Disruptors birthed streams of bolts down where the Klingon ships had just been. Maulers sent out lances of eye tearingly bright silver, and every time they fired, another GU ship died. Kirom even got lucky and scored a hit on one of the now EW shrouded Battleships, finishing it off in a savage blossom of white light and molten, half vaporized debris. Seeming to take the hint, the GU Destroyers threw themselves into even more wild evasion routines that curved them back towards the remaining, wounded Battleship and the onrushing Superdreadnought Battlegroup.  
  
The Vampires and their consorts sent a token barrage after their retreating foes, then pivoted back and snapped their impulse engines back on. They had nearly rejoined formation with the mobile smelter by now, throttling back to full impulse as they fell in around it. Luza settled into her leather command chair, finally allowing herself to relax. They may have lost the system, but at least the had made the pahtk pay in blood for it.  
  
Suddenly, a guttural alarm sounded, causing Luza's head to snap up as she pivoted her chair to face her gunnery officer.  
  
"Contacts coming out of warp!" He shouted. "Multiple contacts!"  
  
Almost against her will, Luza forced her eyes down to her tactical repeater. Superdreadnoughts. Dozens of them, coming out of warp all across their path, their careful organization exposing them as a carefully planned ambush. Some of them had light combat damage, hinting that they had been called in from successful combat in surrounding systems.  
  
"Long range fire control sensors detected. I'm picking up energy spikes centered in their PPD's, their weapons are hot and ready to fire." Her gunnery officer said tersely.  
  
"Incoming signal from the lead GU ship Captain. It's an all ships signal." Her com officer piped up  
  
"Put it up." The screen came to life, showing the lightly smiling visage of a Dominion Vorta.  
  
"Klingon brothers and sisters, I call on you to stand down and prepare to be boarded. There has been enough loss of life today. Do not throw your lives away in a futile effort to halt our advance. You will see that the peace, unity and acceptance of all peoples that we will bring. There is no need to oppose us. I call on you to see reason and prevent your own destruction."  
  
Luza spat onto the deck, her leather clad hands straining their gloves as they balled into fists. "Perhaps today is a good day to die after all. Open a channel to the Flag." Her com officer entered commands into his console, then nodded to her. "What are your orders Sir?"  
  
Second Fleet, ISS Athena, enroute to the frontlines near the Alpha/Beta Quadrant boarder  
  
"Admiral," T'var's com officer said, "the Tempest reports that they have detected significant EW interference coming from the Davion system. Far more than could be accounted for by any natural means."  
  
Second Fleet, the premier offensive battle fleet of the Terran Empire, had been enroute to the frontline of the Galactic Unity's advance. Once there, the ships were bound to have a significant impact on GU battle plans. 2000 Wraith upgrades and 4000 Excaliburs, along with Athena herself, composed the core of the heaviest Imperial formation ever put into space. Even with tightened spacing, the fleet was a large and ungainly when tucked into one cohesive force. It moved like a snake through slipstream, rank after rank of upgraded Wraiths, Sovereigns and Galaxies ringing the mobile shipyards, hospital ships and fast Marine transports of Second Fleet's fleet train. While they still were a little rough around the edges (only to be expected with a virtually scratch built fleet), T'var and her fellow taskforce and battlegroup CO's had instituted an in-depth, fleet wide program of battle drills and sims to hone the massive mace of Second Fleet into a razor edged sword. One of the most promising commands to emerge so far was the ISS Tempest, and as such, she had drawn duty as Second Fleet's starboardmost guard and sensor platform, scouting along Second Fleet's right flank. Her position, far out from the rest of the fleet, allowed her to see farther than any other ship.  
  
"Does the Tempest's Captain have an idea as to what type of unnatural source was causing the interference?" T'var replied with a cocked eyebrow above one of her deep blue eyes.  
  
So far, the GU had been dispersing their strength whenever they could. While this allowed them to attack more targets in the same amount of time, it also spread them thinner than would otherwise be the case. T'var had been tasked with exploiting the enemy's current disposition, and in the initial stages at least, Second Fleet could do exactly that with ease. If this interference proved to be what T'var suspected it was, it would give her a chance to bloody her still largely green units relatively painlessly.  
  
"He says his tactical department is convinced that the interference is of GU ECM in origin."  
  
"Hmm.Order the fleet to drop to impulse and reorient to formation Epsilon Four. Detach BatCru Ron 2.32 and Dest Ron 2.61 to fall back to Davion system," T'var, as her com officer before her, used the 'correct' Imperial designation for what the Klingons had once called and now called again the Klach D'Kel Brakt system, "to execute a covert long ranged sensor sweep. Commissar Augustus, if the Tempest's tactical department's hunch pans out, we may get a live fire exercise against GU targets."  
  
T'var's personal keeper strode onto the raised platform that held her command chair. He was a short but wiry man, with the mass of tight black curls above his swarthy complexion streaked with the silver of age. Green eyes that couldn't quite mask the coldly calculating intelligence behind them from T'var's experienced gaze stared back at her. He tried his best to hide the true level of his competency from her, and a lesser judge of character may well have believed him, but not T'var. She was acutely aware of just how competent a watchdog the Empire and Section had saddled her with, and knew full well why. Her covert probes of secure databases, probes she was sure had never been uncovered (for she was still breathing and free), had long ago alerted her to Section's piqued interest in her.  
  
Fortunately she had been too good at her job, or they were never sure enough, or a combination of the two, for Section to act on their interest. But Julius Augustus' presence on her Flag Bridge showed her that that same inaction hadn't indicated that they trusted her. Quite the opposite in fact, they had gotten crafty and saddled her with a seeming incompetent in the hopes that she would get complacent and slip up.  
  
"And you're sure that the enemy is too weak to pose a credible threat?" His deep yet melodic voice resonated in the expansive Flag Bridge facilities.  
  
"We will not know for certain until the recon elements report back, but I doubt that the ISC and Dominion would commit serious numbers to conquer such an unimportant Klingon world. Even when it was under Imperial control, the system's lone M-class world never boasted much population wise, and there was never much reason to colonize it more heavily because it was so far from core systems and trade lanes." T'var shook her head. "Not that even a serious enemy fleet would be sufficient to stand up to Second Fleet without significant fixed fortifications to back them up. The Davion system never possessed any, so I am confident we can overcome any opposition the GU is capable of mounting. But it is always good to be thorough, which is why I detached the scout formation to probe the system first."  
  
"I see. Very well then Admiral. If the GU forces are as weak as you suspect, we shall engage them at your discretion." 


	46. Chapter 43

Chapter 43 - Strange Bedfellows  
  
ISS Hera, BatCru Ron 2.32 Flagship, Outskirts of the Klach D'Kel Brakt system  
  
Commodore Hans Grotzen peered intently at his Flag Bridge's holodisplay. He had it set for ¼ view that worked best for portraying the enemy maneuvering far in front of him, and the swirling light beads of hostile ships played across the gold bright work of his uniform. His new flagship, still possessing that new starship smell throughout (as did most of Second Fleet's ships), was the most capable variant yet devised on one of Starfleet's most versatile platforms. The new upgraded Nebulas boasted virtually the same long ranged fire support capability of their torpedo heavy/weapons-podded cousins mated with near the same sensor fidelity and reach of the SWAC subtype. All it cost was slight lessening of internal crew space and torpedo bunkerage, but he was more than willing to accept the trade-off since it gave him one of the most potent and sensitive sensor suites in known space. He used those powerful sensors for all they were worth, but in passive mode only. Active sensor sweeps would light up his position like a beacon, and it wasn't as if the passive systems lacked targets to pick up. Neither the GU nor the Klingons appeared to be making much of an attempt to hide their locations. There was the usual fuzz of ECM, put out by what could only be Galactic Unity EW specialist subtypes or ships of the line. CIC was doing its best, but with only passives to work with combined with the extreme range, they were only getting sniffs as to what the ECM was shrouding in a sensor defying haze. Finally letting out a satisfied grunt, Hans spoke.  
  
"Well Commissar," he told his political watchdog, "it would appear that Starfleet WDB and BuShips were right about the capabilities of our new EW systems."  
  
"Why is that Commodore?"  
  
Hans sighed mentally, cursing Section for saddling him with a mental deficient for a Commissar, but forced a seemingly eager reply. "Because, Commissar Ananasis, neither the GU forces nor the Klingons have shown any reaction to our presence. Our scouting party is large enough that we should have sparked at least some reaction had we come in under normal cloak, phase cloak or other older active stealthing measures. While the fact that they, as yet, have shown no response is a good indicator that we are still hidden, it's not a certainty. They may well be ignoring us even though they can see us, but I find that unlikely. They have sufficient firepower in system to detach at least a destroyer squadron or two to take a closer look at us. Yet they aren't. No Commissar, I'm pretty much convinced they don't know we're here. It is my intention to close to within one million kilometers of Starfleet WDB's estimated detection threshold and see just how accurate it is. I'm also going to detach the Bellerephon", one of Dest Ron 2.61's Novas, "to report back to Fleet Admiral T'var. Commander Tillman," he said, turning towards where his ops officer sat, "make sure the Bellerephon gets complete sensor tracks from every ship in the squadron. Perhaps the Athena's sensor techs can refine the raw data further."  
  
Hans pivoted his command chair back to where Commissar Ananasis sat behind him on the Flag Bridge's back wall. The position had been carefully thought out, for it allowed him to have a free view of nearly the entire bridge while simultaneously fading into the background to be all but unnoticed when he so chose. Not that many Starfleet personnel would be stupid or naive enough to forget about their political overseer and the power he wielded, but even the best could slip up occasionally. And that could well be all that Section required to disappear you. Although the bloodletting in Starfleet had so far been largely limited to Sol system's Starfleet Command Head Quarters and most of First Fleet's senior officers, that didn't negate the threat that anyone could become a target if one gave Section and their Commissars sufficient cause. It had always been the case, but it was even more evident and invasive than it had been before the attempted coup.  
  
After a slightly pregnant pause as Commissar Ananasis' brain mulled over the information he had just been told, he nodded to the Starfleet officer. "Very well Commodore, you may execute the plans you have outlined."  
  
Hans resisted the compelling urge to curl his lip in a snarl. He was as impotent to do anything about the watchdogs Section had assigned him as any other Starfleeter. Commissars had been assigned to virtually every command in the Fleet after certain flag officer's in 'Home Fleet' had been shown to be either complicit or downright active participants in the deaths of virtually every member of the Terran Council. But even though he was impotent to remove them, it wouldn't do either his career or his person any good to let it show either. So he merely ground his teeth softly and whispered curses at the cosigner of all his orders from behind the safety of his mental shields. With a false yet believable amicable nod to the Commissar, he spun his chair back to the forward holodisplay.  
  
"Lt. Pelatin, initiate a com link to Captain Shroderberg." Hans commanded his communications officer.  
  
"Aye sir."  
  
Seconds later, a perfect holographic bust of ISS Hera's Captain, CO of Hans' flagship, blossomed into a com window on his holodisplay. He had established a good working relationship with the attractive Betazoid when she had become the Captain of his previous flagship. Needless to say, he had been rather pleased when he had been informed that she was available for his new flagship in the freshly expanded Second Fleet. It helped to have a Flag Captain that fully understood what he expected of her, especially in a scratch built squadron that had only a few months to train together. And it also saved him the hassle of training a replacement under those same conditions. It was bad enough putting a new squadron together with a staff and Flag Captain he knew he could count on. He shuddered to think what it would have been like with all new personnel, for the few rough edges his squadron still had were bothersome enough.  
  
"Well Captain," he said with a real smile, "let's move in to about seven million kilometers from their nearest unit and execute another passive sensor sweep. Just be ready to bug out if they detect us. That much weight of metal is too much for us to handle on our own from in tight. If they don't see us, prepare a stealthed RD spread through their formation. Admiral T'var sent us here to scout the enemy dispositions, and I don't intend to disappoint her."  
  
"Understood Sir. We won't do anything to cause the Admiral any disappointment." She replied eagerly.  
  
"I never expected anything less Captain. Grotzen out." The holodisplay com window closed and Hans refocused his attention on the tactical projection. Entering a series of commands into the console that sprouted off of his chair's left armrest, the holodisplay expanded, stretching around him, wreathing his command chair with a full 360 degrees of enhanced exterior view. The display stabilized in its new configuration, then shifted again as the brilliant pinpricks of distant stars elongated into rainbow hued streaks. But only for a brief instant. The space distorting glory of warp speed reverted back to normal space in an eyeblink as the assembled Imperial warships micro jumped into range of the GU vessels warp inhibitor fields. Continuing on at full impulse, they stalked ever closer to their still unsuspecting quarry. They stopped as if with one mind seven million kilometers out from the closest GU vessel.  
  
Nothing.  
  
Not an active sensor ping, not a shift in escort maneuvers, not a single solitary sign that the GU ships knew they were there.  
  
"Detach the Volga, Commander Tillman." Hans told his ops officer, not wanting to press his luck by risking a subspace com message to the waiting Second Fleet and instead making the far safer play of detaching yet another of his destroyer screen to play courier. "Make sure she gets the updated plotting information along with her orders." With the closer range, Grotzen's sensors had been able to isolate another seven Dominion Battlecruisers and four ISC Superdreadnoughts behind their ECM. With passives only, it was still impossible to keep them locked up. But CIC was virtually certain that they had gotten definite and distinct hits on some of them, and he trusted his crew's instincts.  
  
"Aye Sir." Wendy Tillman said, then turned to establish the necessary tight beam whisker com to one of Hera's escorts.  
  
On the holodisplay, the plot resolved itself into a much clearer picture, and Hans leaned forward, his posture intent and his eyes eager. The RD volley his ships had launched was finally close enough for their passive arrays to pierce the GU ECM. It bulled through the less effective Klingon ECM as well, and even though it wasn't as detailed info as Hans would have liked, it was about as much as could be expected from a passive RD sweep.  
  
"Commander, append the data dump to the Volga to include the RD information."  
  
"Already doing it Commodore."  
  
Second Fleet, ISS Athena  
  
"Admiral, the Volga has returned with the second data dump from Commodore Grotzen's force."  
  
"Send it to my console."  
  
"Already on it Ma'am." And her chief of staff was, for as she spoke it appeared on the console that sprouted from her right armrest. Her staff functioned well, for she had had most of them together virtually since she had assumed command of Second Fleet. True some had been lost in the unfortunate backlash of the failed psychonic attack against Species 8472, but their replacements had slotted into the vacant positions surprisingly well. While some were nearing the point when seniority would force her to give them up for further advancement, she could still hold on to them for a year or so before they moved on. And they deserved their advancement, for they had patterned their actions as officers after her own. They were good officers, and what was more, they were good persons. Not filled with the petty hatreds and cruel vindictiveness that far too many citizens of the Terran Empire held dear. T'var suppressed a surge of pride. These were the type of officers and beings that Spock had wanted populating the galaxy, and they had followed her example on how to get there.  
  
T'var studied the information on the enemy for a moment, then made her decision. "Orders to the fleet. Set course for the Davion system. Fleet train units shall remain here along with SD Ron 2.07 and BC TF 2.29 for protection. N-space reversion for the other fleet elements will be at the following coordinates." She listed exactly where she wanted her forces to appear. "Red alert, prepare to engage the enemy but only fire on my orders or if fired upon. I want to capture the enemy ships intact if possible." A subtle growl seemed to come from the flag bridge officers and ratings. They were eager to strike a blow at the enemy, a pack of wolves that had seen their pack mates harried and pressed and were finally able to do something.  
  
IKV Bortas, Klach D'Kel Brakt system  
  
The small Flotilla's CO had opened his mouth answer her, but he never even started before a shout on his own bridge cut him off. Virtually simultaneously a similar shout flew across her own bridge. Her head snapped from the com screen to her gunnery officer. Then, upon seeing his expression, they jerked back to her tactical repeater. Terran vessels, hundreds. THOUSANDS of them! And in the middle of them. Luza's fiery warrior's blood turned to ice in her veins. A Bastion! Kahless protect us!  
  
A com message broke across all subspace channels.  
  
"Galactic Unity vessels, I am Fleet Admiral T'var of the Terran Empire. You will surrender your ships to my custody immediately or you will be destroyed. Cut your engines, deactivate your weapons and defenses and prepare to be boarded. Any resistance will be met with deadly force. Respond imme..." the voice on the com died as ships of the Galactic Unity sprang into action.  
  
ISS Athena, Flag Bridge  
  
A handful of GU commanders made a fateful choice, and that choice started a chain reaction that sealed both their own and their comrade's fates. On half a dozen ships, impulse engines flared to brilliant life as they began frantic evasion manuvers. Weapons systems, already prepared to open fire against the Klingons, now birthed a storm of phaser and plasma torpedoes against the alloy wall of Second Fleet's assembled ships. The firepower might have hurt the lighter units in Second Fleet's screening elements, or have damaged heavier ones if it was applied with any overarching plan. But the GU commanders were panicked and acting as individuals, not as parts of the whole. As such, they would have been better off not taking any action at all.  
  
One second, seven GU Superdreadnoughts and a smattering of lighter ships were engaging Second Fleet's ships. The next, over a dozen white hot balls of flame and molten shrapnel cast a pall over the Galactic Unity's lines as Second Fleet showed their surviving consorts the futility of resistance. T'var continued on, her face seeming to tighten slightly.  
  
"I regret that such demonstrations were necessary. I have no desire to see you all dead, but if I must, I will destroy every one of your ships. I leave the decision up to you, stand down or be destroyed."  
  
For a dreadfully intense moment, immeasurably long yet remarkably short, no one dared breathe. True the Galactic Unity were the enemy, but if more chose to go down fighting it wouldn't be a battle. It would be a slaughter. And if some of Second Fleet's newer officers and enlisted personnel might have reveled in that slaughter, the vast majority wouldn't. The level of basic decency that was part of every human being had grown enormously from the dark days of the 2260's. The basic Imperial citizen now wasn't a raving xenophobe like they were then. Nor were the basic Imperial military personnel the psychotic, uncaring monsters like Kirk and the rest of his breed had been.  
  
T'var's com window blossomed to life. "I am Valis of the Galactic Unity." The cold eyed Vorta spoke, an all too human looking frown of impotent rage on her face. "I accept your terms and have ordered my remaining units to stand down." 


	47. Chapter 44

Chapter 44 - For the Honor of the Uniform  
  
ISS Athena, Flag Ready Room, Klach D'Kel Brakt system  
  
Fleet Admiral T'var, commanding officer of Second Fleet, sat behind her desk sifting through a pile of PADDs while also sometimes scrolling through extra information on her personal terminal. Unfortunately, the situation aboard the captured GU ships was as logic dictated it would be. All computer cores had been thoroughly wiped and overwritten, and pertinent tech items like the GU's internal damper and PPDs had been thoroughly slagged. She had considered adding a prohibition on acts of sabotage to her list of terms, but she knew that they wouldn't be followed. The GU was to well aware of its tech and information edge, and would be perfectly willing to make a hash of their databanks and useful pieces of technology even if they agreed not to. So rather than make unfulfillable demands that would be broken and cause her to kill POWs, she hadn't made the demands in the first place. She had more than enough blood on her hands and conscience as it was, she had no desire to add what would amount to murder to the mix.  
  
Suddenly, her telepathic sense picked up the distinct flavor or her Section watchdog's mental defenses. He was just outside her ready room and. the door slipped aside without even the simple courtesy of waiting for her acknowledgement. Commissar Augustus was at his heart a petty bully, eager to push his weight around against those whom he could get away with it. From T'var's limited experience, most of those assigned to be Section's watchdogs over Starfleet were of similar mindset. They reveled in tormenting and instilling fear in those who dared not fight back.  
  
Trailing behind the Commissar was her flagships CO. Captain Detrich Filser had succeeded Ulysses as commander of the Athena, and T'var wasn't all that satisfied with the trade. Detrich was a hard man, as were most Ekosians. Ekos had been a peaceful world that had been corrupted by a Section 31 Pre- contact Civilization Preparation Team headed by the infamous Section agent John Gill. Agent Gill was a vocal advocate of ideals virtually identical to those of Terra's Third Reich, and it showed in most of the worlds his team was responsible for preparing for Terran rule. By the time the selected worlds were introduced to Imperial Starfleet and the Terran Empire's envoys, they were firmly under the control of individuals the Nazi's would have called brother with open, welcoming arms. Coincidentally, they welcomed the TE with open arms themselves, hailing them as brothers and accepting their role in TE society easily.  
  
Detrich came about as close to the Nazi's Slavic ideal as a being born hundreds of years after the fall of the Third Reich and of a totally different planet could. The way he looked in an Imperial uniform was downright scary, for he filled the uniform's blackness with a determined sense of dark foreboding. In order to advance to his present position in the Terran dominated Imperial Starfleet, he had to be an exceptional individual. And he was, T'var couldn't find any reason to complain about his competency even if his methods left much to be desired. He was a cold, calculating individual, and a downright fanatic concerning the TE's new emperor. Considering the suspicions T'var knew Section had about her, she wasn't all that surprised she had been saddled with such a true believer like Detrich for her new Flag Captain. He was another uncorruptable set of ears and eyes she would have to keep alert for, lest he find some scrap of information that Section could take action on.  
  
"Admiral, what do you intend to do with the Klingon vessels?" T'var's keeper said, intruding into her silent perusal of the after action reports.  
  
"Do Commissar?" T'var said, turning her chair towards Julius Augustus. "Considering that the latest orders from Emperor Jack Chambers in relation to the GA powers dictated a cease fire existed between us, I see no reason to do anything with the Klingon vessels." Julius' eyes narrowed ever so slightly, but T'var continued. "Until such time as either the GA breaks the cease fire or the Emperor gives orders different than those he has recently issued, I will abide by the terms laid out in the agreement."  
  
"Admiral, we posses the power to crush the Klingons or at least demand their immediate and unconditional surrender. While their ships are admittedly few and light, there is at least a squadron of top of the line cruisers out there." He said, gesturing to the holodisplay where the crimson banded amber icons of the surviving Klingon ships hovered with neutered menace. "The loss of those vessels would be a potent blow against the Klingon scum that dared rise up against their rightful masters!"  
  
T'var held back the reply to such a comment cold logic dictated needed to be said. The loss of a mere five ships, even ones as potent as the KDF's Vampire's, would be a mere pinprick when their total number of hulls was in the hundreds of thousands. Julius continued. "We can destroy every ship and installation the Klingons have here, then glass their colony! We could arrange it to appear that the Galactic Unity was the culprit. And there would be no witnesses left to say different and just that many fewer. vermin. infesting our galaxy!"  
  
There was a certain intensity in his voice, almost a sub-vocal snarl, as he spoke of intelligent beings who had the poor fortune to be born non-Terran in a Terran dominated galaxy. This wasn't his act anymore, no longer the persona of carefully constructed feigned ignorance and simple mindedness. No, this was his true self showing through, the passion was too raw, the flame in his eyes to evident for it to be anything else. T'var picked her words carefully, wanting to diffuse the situation as quickly and as safely as possible.  
  
"Commissar, until I receive orders to the contrary from the Emperor, or the Klingons attack Second Fleet, I will NOT break the cease fire agreement." T'var stressed the word not with emotion but with emphasis. That decision is the Emperors to make, not yours or mine. To do as you suggest is both illogical and treasonous." Like a fleeting shadow, naked hatred flashed on Julius' face as his mask slipped when confronted with T'var's defiance. He was definitely a bully, hating those that didn't bow immediately to his commands. And apparently a bully blinded by his petty prejudices, for T'var's dropping of treason into the conversation caused his hate to evaporate into fear almost as fast as it showed its vile head in the first place.  
  
Captain Filser inserted himself into the conversation. "I believe the point Commissar Augustus is trying to make is that we can bend the rules the Emperor laid out for us if we are thorough enough. I am sure the Emperor will be pleased if we remove the Klingon scourge from the Davion system, cease fire treaty or not. However, I do feel that it is best to do as you say and err on the side of caution rather than attempt to guess how the Emperor is likely to react." It still amazed T'var, even after being forced to work closely with him for months, that he could be so smooth in diffusing potentially dangerous situations. She could almost be grateful for that, save for the fact that it was hard to be grateful for the deadly snake in the grass that is just waiting for a chance to strike at you yet kept the rodent population under control in the mean time. T'var decided not to press the point any further, for there was nothing to be gained pressing her Commissar further on this point.  
  
"Finish securing our prisoners and complete the engineering evaluation on the GU vessels, then recall our away teams and prepare to depart. We will destroy all GU vessels as we withdraw from the system." Her tone of voice indicated that this uninvited meeting was finished as far as she was concerned.  
  
As alien as the vessels were, part of her wished she could send them back to TE held space under prize crews. But the cost of refitting them to Imperial spec was prohibitive. About the only thing that would be left of their original workings at the end would be the shell of the ship, her outer hull and internal divisions with virtually everything else ripped out and replaced with Imperial systems to simplify resupply and repair. Considering that the basic hull structures were among both the cheapest and easiest piece of a modern starship to manufacture, this generally limited the true utility of captured enemy units in modern warfare. The GA powers got around this significant hurdle in using alien hardware by starting out using stock Imperial specs for all components in their hidden fleets to begin with. What better way to use your enemy's ships when they used the same parts as your own did for virtually everything? The downside was that enemy raiding parties could use captured ships and supply convoys easily for his own forces as easily as your own could, but T'var could easily see why the Grand Alliance powers had done what they did when they set about building up their secret fleets.  
  
"As you command Admiral." Captain Filser replied in an even tone. Saluting with snap and panache that would have eased even the DI's at Starfleet Academy's first form middie training's dour stares, he turned on the heel of his mirror like polished obsidian leather boots, saluted Commissar Augustus, then strode out her.  
  
Augustus was back to his slightly vacant looking self, although T'var's learned and experienced eye could still detect the faint traces of hate and genuine fear lurking behind his practiced mask. She could also just make out his discomfort with both emotions. The former because it was rendered impotent, the latter because like any bully, he detested being fearful of anything. Without even the courtesy of a nod goodbye, he spun on his heel and strode out of her office.  
  
A less logical and more emotional being would have erupted into gleeful laughter at the sight. But T'var refused to give into her emotions, keeping them on a very short leash deep inside a prison of steely control. Instead, she merely raised a lone eyebrow very high as the door to her ready room swooshed shut, then went back to her small lake of electronic paperwork.  
  
IKV Bortas, Klach D'Kel Brakt system  
  
Luza had watched the ease with which the Terran's elite Second Fleet units had cut down the foolish Galactic Unity vessels that refused to accede to their demands. The incomprehensible energies released in that brief moment of terrible, rending fury had virtually atomized the offending units, turing them into expanding clouds of energetic plasma that sleeted against the shields of their more fortunate comrades.  
  
But the huntress in Luza couldn't help but admire the precision of the kills, even if it was Terrans executing it. No shot went wide. No shot blew through its indented target and accidentally hit another combatant. It was the stopping power of a bat'leth combined with the finesse of a d'k tahg, and even if it was an enemy wielding it, Luza's warrior spirit rallied in awe at the assault.  
  
All communication attempts with Second Fleet had been rebuffed with terse commands to remain in place with engines, weapons and defensive systems offline. Not wanting to die for no return, Luza and the other members of the Imperial Klingon Defense Force could do nothing more than do just that and pray that the spirits of their ancestors in Sto-Vo-Kor held the Terrans to their end of the cease fire agreement.  
  
And wonder of wonders, the Terrans actually [b]HAD[/b] kept up their end of the cease fire. While standard observational sensors were constantly trained on Luza and her fellow Klingons, the distinctive spikes of fire control sensor hits remained in abeyance. Bortas' sensors showed her the motes that swarmed out of the Terran lines, thousands of small craft of all shapes and sizes that descended upon the GU vessels. Most were Viper assault shuttles with Cobra's riding shotgun, but there were also the blocky, bulky shapes of Forager cargo shuttles sent along to bring choice bits of Galactic Unity machinery back to Second Fleet.  
  
GU crews, after having been picked over for select personnel, were transported down to the surface of Klach D'Kel Brakt B-4. The small Class L world, orbiting the distant Class O and F pair of Klach D'Kel Brakt's quartet of stars, was only marginally habitable. But with a low powered food replicator provided from the ISS Athena's prodigious stores it would suffice for the few thousand GU survivors not chosen for TE internment until the Klingon High Command decided what to do with them.  
  
Then all the small craft returned to their motherships and Luza was treated to another massive wave of destruction. Terran slicers and xenolinguists had breached the GU vessels security measures and induced them to self destruct. Systematically, boils of to-bright light marked the funeral pyres of once proud warships as their scuttling systems activated, helping along the AM charges Terran engineers had added to ensure complete destruction.  
  
"Athena Battlegroup is closing, now entering visual range."  
  
"Show me." Luza replied to her gunnery officer. The main viewer shifted to show the approaching Terran ships. Out of the maelstrom of released energy, the Athena and a lone wing of Wraiths. Next to the Bastion, the mighty Terran SD's looking like Glob Flies buzzing around a Targ. They flew ever closer to Luza's command, looming large, covering the stars themselves.  
  
When they got within a virtually unheard of kilometer of each other, the Athena and her consorts angled parallel to the Bortas and his brother ships. The Terran vessels running lights flashed twice in salute, then the Athena and the rest of Second Fleet simultaneously stretched and went translucent as they entered the blue vortexes of slipstream before disappearing altogether.  
  
Luza let out a breath. Much as she might have detested the cease fire agreement between the Grand Alliance and the Terran Empire, she understood why it was brokered and agreed upon. All powers in the Alpha and Beta quadrants were in a fight for their very survival with an opponent more powerful than all of them together. To have any chance at all of surviving, they had to take every edge they could get. If that meant setting aside collecting of debts until after the threat to all was eliminated, so be it. She knew well the old Terran saying 'the enemy of my enemy is my friend'. While she wouldn't go that far when it came to the Terrans, and she doubted she ever would, it did exemplify the current arrangement far more eloquently than most other descriptions. For today at least, the tenuous ceasefire between the powers of the Grand Alliance and the Terran Empire had held and as a result, Luza and her fellow Klingons had survived to fight another day. That was what truly mattered after all. 


	48. Chapter 45

Chapter 45 - Battle on the Banks of the Lethe  
  
Flag Bridge, ISS Nebuchadnezzar, Lethe Star System, Delta Quadrant  
  
Ulysses Vanguard, brevet Vice Admiral in Imperial Starfleet, defacto commanding officer of Sector 2000 and its attached fleet units, rested his head on steepled fingers as he studied the strategic holodisplay before him. His hazel eyes were narrowed in concentration and thought, the skin pulled taunt around the remnants of his ocular implant because of a faint scowl as he watched the enemy maneuver deeper in-system.  
  
The Neb was one of the fortunate few of Prescott's Star's defenders that had gotten through the last battle relatively unscathed. Once her basically superficial damage and slipstream nacelles had been repaired, Ulysses had claimed her for his temporary flagship while the Valley Forge completed her considerably more extensive repairs under P'tel and Clay's watchful eyes. While he would have liked to have waited for further ships to be repaired before he began taking back neighboring star systems, he couldn't afford to play things safe. The local Galactic Unity forces were weak for the moment, having concentrated virtually all their units for the near final push against Prescott's Star. Uly he didn't want to give them a chance to reinforce and make his job harder than it already was.  
  
So he had taken a squadron of Wraith (U)s out, backed up by a Sovereign Battlegroup and a Battlecruiser Taskforce, to either scare away or blow to hell any GU pickets holding down the Imperial colonies in the sector. So far, Task Force 2000.3 had freed and repicketted 27 systems and from the looks of things was about to add 28 to the list.  
  
The Flag Bridge was abuzz with normal pre-combat activity, with orders, status reports and the other plethora of minutiae details involved in getting a large concentration of warships ready for battle. But Ulysses tuned most of it out, instead concentrating on the angry red light beads of his opponent. Like him, they were heavy in Destroyers and Light Cruisers. Unlike him, the heaviest unit they had was a Battleship, and then only a heavy division's worth. Any sensible opponent would have cut their losses and begun a retreat from the system by now when faced with the overwhelming superiority in weight of metal bearing down on them, and the GU were certainly not fools. And that was the cause of Ulysses scowl, for the enemy had [b]NOT[/b] withdrawn from the battlefield. Quite the opposite in fact, the GU Task Force appeared to be falling into strike formation about six hundred thousand kilometers from Lethe's massive Class S Gas Ultragiant, Nephthys.  
  
Nephthys had not quite reached the levels of self sustaining reaction necessary to become a full fledged second sun in the Lethe system, but it was close enough to be throwing out fairly substantial radiation and was even briefly luminous in places. The Gas Ultragiant's massive size had dragged in quite a few moons, with many being planets in their own right and more than a handful whipping around in rather exotic orbits. With such effective cover near by, there were ample places to hide a starship, even a whole fleet.  
  
Ulysses, frowned as he stared into the holodisplay with his lone working eye. Something was nagging at him, nibbling at the back of his brain. He didn't like the setup to this battle at all. While it could be just a ruse designed to scare him off from attacking, the force before him was to powerful to leave running around in his rear areas, especially considering he had only been able to spare Destroyers and Cruisers for picket duty in his recaptured systems "Order the scouting elements to concentrate on the nearside of Nephthys especially. I want detailed sweeps as deep as we can get them before I commit to battle. This entire setup smells of a trap and I'd really rather not walk right into it and make the enemy's job overly easy." His forces could handily keep the GU in range thanks to their slipstream capability, so he wasn't too worried about their STL speed advantage. But they were definitely up to something, and he didn't want to pop in unless he could at least make a solid guess as to just what that was.  
  
By now familiar sounding ayes answered his even toned order. If he couldn't have his home along with him (strange as it seemed for a child of the stars who was a follower of Spock to call an Imperial Warship home), at least he had been able to take his staff along when he had transferred his flag to the Neb. Unfortunately it also meant his watcher had come along as well. At least Commissar Stevens couldn't possibly have anything to complain about so far. It had been an easy thing to pounce on the light GU system pickets providing orbital fire support for GU ground troops. With mostly only light handfuls of combatants present, it had been easy to use not only Ulysses superior firepower but superior numbers to clear every system visited so far.  
  
On the holodisplay, the Imperial scouting units that had by now broadly enveloped the GU Task Force spat a volley of recon drones. His sensor systems couldn't pick up their covert launch, all indications of their activation and course were based off of their pre-programmed course only. His sensors should only pick them up if something went wrong with their stealth systems. Most were set to curve around the enemy to stay clear of his PD, tracking instead for the massive swirling ball of gas and energy at the enemies' backs. A handful cut straight for the heart of the GU formation, attempting to gain firmer data on their numbers and dispositions than the long ranged scans of the scouts could get.  
  
Every now and then, a brief contact blossomed near his units. They were enemy recon drones scouting his own formation, nailed by escorting Achilles or other ships either quicker off the draw or closer to the drones to begin with. The enemy likely had fairly firm readings on him by now thanks to their damnably effective stealthing systems, and with his self evident superiority it wouldn't really matter all that much when the battle came. But Ulysses didn't want to give any possible edge to the enemy if he could help it, hence the enemy drones continued to be vaped as soon as they were spotted.  
  
The recon drones pierced Nephthys' turbulent, energized atmosphere, spreading out into a standard search grid pattern. It was tighter than was optimal due to the intense sensor disrupting disturbances present, but there were enough individual probes to provide adequate scan coverage in spite of the planets distortion.  
  
Deeper and deeper Ulysses' probes went, seeking the enemy with their extensive sensors suites as the pressure on their shields grew with every extra meter from the surface. Like they were caught in a giant three dimensional vice, the drone's shields weakened at an ever increasing rate. One, likely succumbing to a design flaw, lost its shields. In virtually the same instant, it crumpled like a deflating balloon as the massive pressure unleashed itself against the drone's weak hull. The other reconnaissance platforms smoothly shifted their formation to cover the resulting gap, but an already small net got even smaller as a result. And then, as the recon probes were nearing the deepest into the atmosphere they were rated for, an angry rash of scarlet enemy icons flared on the holodisplay.  
  
"There you are, you sneaky little buggers." Ulysses said softly. The frown mostly left his face and he peered intently over his steepled fingers, trying to glean anything from the red hued flecks that represented the enemy. "Designate new enemy units Force Beta." Ulysses ordered.  
  
It wasn't the individual set of icons that a more thoroughly scouted formation would be. It was more of a shifting, misshapen blob of crimson as the probes could only give very general information on their targets. Every once and a while a target would firm up enough to give a rough mass reading. By CIC's best guess, there was at least another division of GU SD's down there. The recon drones systems couldn't provide more fine detail with passives only, their synthetic eyes were too distorted by the interference to hope to gain hard numbers on them, let alone firm readings on what class they were, and at any rate, Ulysses didn't want to tip his hand that he knew about the ambush,.  
  
Fortunately enough, the GU commander had made a mistake in setting up his little trap. It relied to much on Ulysses not spotting it before hand to ensure its success. If Ulysses approached the main enemy force through Nephthys' turbulent upper atmosphere, he could peg the hidden one as he passed, allowing him to defeat the divided enemy forces in detail rather than being caught in a murderous crossfire. The plan also had the benefit of greatly increasing his force's effective ECM while engaging Force Alpha, at least until he broke free of the atmosphere or they came into it after him.  
  
"Orders for the Task Force, come to heading 042 mark 355 and prepare for slipstream micro-jump to the following coordinates." Ulysses listed the desired alphanumeric sequence. "Then come about to heading 181 mark 190 and go to full impulse. I want saturation fire on Force Beta's location as we pass, but keep your drives at full impulse. If we start to lallygag, they'll be crawling up our buts by the time we reach Force Alpha thanks to their superior top speeds." As Ulysses spoke, his steepled fingers slipped apart to order the holodisplay into tactical mode. The strategic representation grew, wrapping around his chair, making the Flag Bridge disappear behind a veil of stars. In front of him was the white and gold titan of Nephthys, seven of its moons clearly visible. Lethe cast a slightly blue light on the surroundings, the massive disc of the giant star a thumb sized orb at his back. The point of view shifted as his ships came to their new heading smoothly. Icons shifted as the enemy's sensor returns hardened or faded. The world he had come to liberate was a distant flicker, distinguishable from the stellar backdrop only by the orange edged green ID bracket around it. "Engage micro-jump in three. two. one. execute."  
  
Having found the trap, Ulysses still felt uneasy though he couldn't explain why. Unable to come to a satisfactory conclusion, he put his feelings aside and concentrated on the coming battle. The slipstream cores powered up, their bottled fury transmitting through the ships alloy bones as a rumbling hum. For a brief instant, a swirling blue void flashed on the viewscreen. Then it went back to the normal backdrop of star flecked ebon vastness.  
  
While the Nebuchadnezzar Squadron wasn't quite up to the snap the Valley Forge's had been when it came to maneuvers, they were getting close. Ulysses could find no fault as the entire Taskforce flipped end for end while simultaneously swerving onto the preassigned heading change. Smaller ships pulled tight half loops, but thanks to their Borg inspired STL drive, the TF's Wraiths were easily as quick as even the smallest Nova class escort and merely began accelerating down their desired heading as they gracefully swept their prows around. The course change completed, all ships executed simultaneous barrel rolls so that they were correctly oriented with System North, the arbitrarily assigned 'up' from Lethe's planetary orbits. The final maneuver, while not necessary, simplified formation maneuvers by having everyone on the 'same page' and made minor mistakes in helm control much easier to correct should they crop up. This was especially true once the ships started their own evasion routines inside the formation, but with everyone oriented the same way, it made it a simple thing to keep your place.  
  
Ulysses assembled ships plunged into the charged atmosphere of Nephthys, their high speed passage turning the already chaotic maelstrom into incandescent fury as atoms smashed themselves against the carefully reconfigured shields. Leaving kilometer long tails of flame in their wake as they punched deeper into Nephthys, Ulysses Wraiths swung about so they were flying sideways. Reaching out with their powerful tractor beams, the Neb and her sisters caught a Sovereign each. Once they felt the tug of the tractors, the Sovies cut their impulse drives and swung onto the same axial bearing as the Wraiths. From the otherwise sleek Imperial Battleships and Superdreadnoughts, unsightly tubular growths detached with a series of commands from their motherships. Basically retooled Type-X orbital weapons platforms, the new parasite weapons platforms as Clay Heidberg had coined them were designed to latch directly onto their motherships outer hull matrix via molecular bonding. With a seamless bond thanks to the molecule sized velcro like effect of the molecular bonding process, the PWPs rode into battle with their motherships to greatly enhance a forces offensive firepower.  
  
But that massive boost to firepower came at a cost. When attached, the PWPs covered shield grid sections. This weakened a ships shield levels for every extra pod that was attached. Also, if they remained attached during battle, any hit that destroyed them would cause massive damage to the mothership thanks to the PWPs individual M/AM power plants and capacitor systems blowing up in contact with the mothership's hull. Finally, for every extra PWP present on a starship, her top speed at FTL and impulse dropped by a noticeable amount. This was thanks to the fact that Type-X PWPs had to be near cruiser class in size to house the massive Phaser Lance system and its required potent power plant. Pushing that much extra weight around at high speed could get very dangerous for a ships structural integrity, even in vessels as tough as the Terran Empire's Superdreadnoughts  
  
For all the drawbacks carrying PWPs, especially the massive Type-Xs, their increase in offensive firepower made it all worth it. Ulysses was able to double his heavy long range punch with them, and he used that edge mercilessly as his ships opened fire on Force Beta. The PWPs slipped outward, held steadily by their motherships tractors as Nephthys' atmosphere turned to plasma around their cocooning shields.  
  
The golden orange spears of 50 Imperial Phaser Lances stabbed outward, boiling away the tortured atmosphere in their path with contemptuous ease as they saturated Force Beta's formation. Some, more likely most, of the terraton pillars of hellfire would miss any ships present deep in Nephthys' atmosphere. But given Force Beta's tight formation, and the number of Lances brought to bear, the first volley was bound to have a telling effect on the concealed ambush force. Nor was it left to the Lances alone, for all other weapons that could be brought to bear volleyed as well, seeding the gaps between the heavies with weaker but still substantial energies of destruction.  
  
Enemy PPDs, plasma torpedoes and Phaser beams were flaring around Ulysses position by now, but it was even more ineffective than his own fire because his ships were maneuvering like dervishes rather than standing still. Must have hit them good, Ulysses thought, there's only smattering of return fire coming from Force Beta. At least I've managed to slip inside the PPD envelope of whatever is left hiding down there and only have to worry about Force Alpha's heavy hitters. With the PWPs and fore Lances recharging, Ulysses nodded in satisfaction as the Neb's Captain, Erika Benteen, ordered the Wraiths to flip end for end even as they continued to fly sideways and hammered away at Force Beta's position with every other weapons system. After flipping end for end, the Wraiths aft lances let loose. Fire from Force Beta's position slackened noticeably, and the recon drones indicated that most of the targets had been hit, including internal explosions as weapons magazines and capacitors were hit. Debris and spikes of oxygen rich atmosphere were also detected, easily picked up as there were no competing sources of oxygen so deep into the gas giant. 


End file.
